


Only One Mer

by AuroraKant



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: (It is Jason), (It is Martha and Thomas Wayne), 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Angst, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Feelings, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Bruce Wayne is a Pirate, Bruce's Children Are Mermaids, But More Like: 8+1 Thing, But only a tiny bit, Canon Temporary Character Death, Fantasy AU, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mer AU, MerMay, Or Sirens, Or Witches, Some Humans Aren't Very Nice To Mermaids, Supernatural Elements, YeetDC2020, and he tries, canon character death, he loves his children, mermaid au, non-graphic animal abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:34:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24201415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuroraKant/pseuds/AuroraKant
Summary: Bruce Wayne had never planned on becoming a pirate. He had wanted to save the Seven Seas the traditional way, but now here he was:Standing next to Lady Shiva ready to board a mermaid hunting vessel not knowing that he was about to change not only his own life, but the one of many mers as well.Or: 8 Times Bruce Wayne Met One Of His Children + 1 Time Fate Met Him
Relationships: Bruce Wayne & Clark Kent, Bruce Wayne & Everyone, Stephanie Brown & Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Duke Thomas & Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne
Comments: 119
Kudos: 464
Collections: Gotham Square (Batfam Discord Fics)





	1. Dick

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya!  
> This is not really a work for Mermay but it fits the theme! So, Happy Mermay It Is!  
> Thanks to the Discord for giving me this idea, to Squinty, Gem, and Syn to constantly remind of it, and to my beautiful Girlfriend for reading and editing it! You Guys are great! <3  
> I am gonna add specific warnings per chapter and there are gonna be 9 of them (chapters that is). I have finished this story and plan on uploading one chapter every 3 to 4 days! I hope you guys are going to have fun with this! :D  
> I love feedback, critique, comments, kudos, and bookmarks! And every reader who enjoys it, of course! <3
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: Mers being discussed and treated as animals, descriptions of animal hunting vessels, non-graphic description of a wound

Being the First Mate on the _Nevermore_ hadn’t been Bruce’s dream when he grew up. No, when Bruce had been young, his parents had died at the hands of pirates, leaving him devastated and angry. He had wanted to destroy every single pirate and privateer traveling the Seven Seas, until only safety was left.

He had joined the Marine against the will of his guardian Alfred, and he worked his way up under general James Gordon. But the harsh truth about these months and years spent under the thumb of the Queen was, that the Marine was just as bad as the pirates.

No matter what general Gordon tried, money still passed through the ranks, opening up paths for the wealthy and leaving the poor behind. There was corruption, and crime, and horror – all of it in the name of the law. Bruce wouldn’t stand for it. Couldn’t stand for it.

He still longed to travel the ocean. He still longed for the sway of a ship beneath his feet and the smell of salt in his nose, but he _knew_ he would never be able to achieve his goals through the means of the Marine. So, he quit with the goal of forging his own path - one not determined by his wealth or his name. 

He started working on ship after ship, cleaning decks and fixing sails, until his hands were rough, and his back constantly hurt. It was then that he heard of the infamous Lady Shiva, a privateer like no other, brutal and honorable at the same time.

She was a legend in her own right, her flag sending shivers down the backs of fearless criminals.

She wasn’t a hero, Bruce knew that, but she wasn’t a… a monster either. And with countless years spent on sea, Bruce had learnt that far more people were monsters than he had previously thought, that heroes might not exist, but people doing the right thing did.

He wanted to be one of those people. He wouldn’t be a hero, he was okay with not being a hero, but Bruce wanted to save the Seven Seas anyways.

It had been surprisingly easy to get hired on Lady Shiva’s ship, the vessel in constant need of hands ready to clean and scrub and slave away on deck. But the captain of the ship had taken a fast liking to him, seeing his competitive nature, his intelligence, his drive.

It was Shiva who taught him how to fight, how to steer a vessel and how to know when the creatures of the sea were close by. She showed him how to know if Sirens protected a harbor and lagoon, and when a pod of mermaids wanted to attack you or was just passing by. She was the one who told him of the truth behind the legends of monsters bigger and taller and stronger than a ship with a hundred men.

And she was the one who took him on board of the Meroni trader vessel _Pino &Umberto_ when they claimed to have caught a living mermaid youngling.

Lady Shiva had been interested in gaining a living mer for quite some time now, their beauty and strength something only whispered about in the dark hours of the night. It was notoriously hard to get living mer, the trade usually focused in selling parts of the hunted animals, like their fins or teeth for good luck. Or their flesh for the dinner plates of the rich living on the continent.

And Bruce could understand why people rarely succeeded in catching and keeping a mermaid, since the fully-grown specimen were usually a lot bigger and stronger than a normal person. But the Meroni family had claimed to have caught a living youngling, and that had piqued Lady Shiva’s interest as well as Bruce’s.

The ship smelled vile when they finally boarded the _Pino &Umberto_, the stench of animal carcasses making Bruce’s stomach turn. Yes, this was a hunter vessel, a ship solely for the purpose of hunting and killing and cutting up the mers it caught, and yet Bruce hadn’t counted on the smell to be this strong, this pungent.

But one glance at Lady Shiva told him that they wouldn’t let the smell be the thing to turn them away, and when a small man with a bald shiny head and a nervous smile on his face, came to greet them, Bruce knew to be polite.

“Hello! Greetings! I am the Captain of this small beauty, Tony Zucco, and you are Captain Shiva and-?”

“Lady Shiva, actually, and I am her First Mate Wayne.”

There would be no way around it, Bruce not yet infamous enough to gain his own honorific title among the pirates, his own name still the only one he had. If Zucco recognized the last name, however, he didn’t let it show, instead nodding along with Bruce’s words before motioning for them to follow him:

“Well, well, that is great, isn’t it? But we all have places to be, yes? So, let me show it to you and then we can talk money!”

“We talk money if I am happy with the goods you are trying to sell, Zucco.”

Bruce always felt awe when he heard Shiva talk in that voice of hers, when she threatened without ever using a bad word or a harsh tone. It was admirable, really, and Bruce wanted to learn how to do it as well.

“Of course, of course! Come along!”

The insides of the ship were even uglier than the outsides, the smell stronger with nowhere to escape to. It was dirty, most of the walls covered in slimy things Bruce definitely didn’t want to know the origins of, and the deeper they advanced into the ship, the worse the stank of decay got. And Zucco couldn’t seem to stop talking:

“This is really the catch of a century! Young! Male! We specialize in hunting shark-related mers, since their fins sell for a nice penny back in Arkham harbor! I’ve heard that the gills are a specialty as well, very tasty, my friend said they have a nice sweet tang to them. I am not much of a fish eater myself, but… well, you aren’t here to eat this one, are ye?”

Zucco was grinning by the time they reached a small door leading to what Bruce guessed was the brig. The man sounded way too pesky when he pushed open the door to reveal an unorganized room full of crates and barrels and a dirty bathtub:

“And here we are! And as you can see, Captain Shiva,-“

“Lady Shiva”

“Ah, yes, of course, Lady Shiva, we have a young male mermaid for sale just as you requested.”

A few of Zucco’s men had joined them on their decend deeper into the ship and now all of them pushed into the brig, Zucco, Shiva, and Bruce in the front. As soon as Bruce was in the room, he could see that the bathtub was more than just a simple unconventional decorating choice, it was the tank these idiots used for the mermaid.

And what a sight the mermaid was.

The youngling was in fact still small, not even five feet long from what Bruce was able to see from his position next to Shiva, and Bruce might not have been a doctor like his father always wanted him to be, but he could still see that the animal was dying.

There was a bandage on its tail, the skin around it angry and blistering, and when Bruce’s gaze wandered higher, he could see its eyes, sunken deep into its skull. It was a miserable sight, and yet… It looked far less humanoid than Bruce had imagined, but at the same time it looked more like a child that Bruce could ever have guessed. The small gills on the tiny upper body were restlessly fluttering, the chest heaving, and Bruce wanted to scoop the grey-blue bundle up and tell it everything would be alright.

Anger surged through Bruce’s veins the longer he stared at this animal, at how close it was to an end unworthy of a monster, much less something so similar looking to a human.

“I was promised a young male mermaid, indeed, Mr. Zucco, but this is a dead body with a few breaths still left inside.”

And by the sounds of it, Shiva was pissed as well. They had changed their usual traveling routes to meet with the Meroni family, delaying them weeks if the wind changed course, and all of that for a dying animal.

For a small thing too weak and too lost to understand why it was here or what was happening to it.

“No, Lady Shiva, you see… It might be a bit sick, but it has great potential. Look at it! The great dorsal fin! The nails that will be beautiful weapons one day… it is still young enough to be trained.”

Of course, Zucco wanted to save his skin, the nervous tilt in his voice making it clear as day that he knew the words leaving his mouth were utter bullshit. Bruce could watch the shipwreck happen in real time, when Shiva decided to grace this waste of human life with an answer:

“Enough. I will not be exploited like this. It should be well known that my crew and I only buy the most exquisite of goods, and this… this is a travesty, that will be too sick to sell even after it died.”

The thing was, Shiva was probably right. There was not much fight left in the youngling, Bruce could tell. Its eyes were hazed, the giant blue orbs with their slit pupils focusing on nothing and everything at the same time. The mer was sick. Horribly so. The infection slowly eating it up from the inside out.

Ignoring the angry and fearful voices of Zucco and his men when they started debating with Shiva, Bruce took a step closer to the bathtub. And another one. Soon he was standing right in front of it, his eyes unable to stray from the small body, the desperation in which it clung to live. Most beings would be dead by now, the infection and hunger and pain costing them their lives.

But not this one.

Not this small mermaid, who had been hurt and traumatized.

Not this youngling who had no one left to care for it.

“I’ll take him.”

Bruce surprised himself when the words left his mouth, but as soon as he said them, he knew they were true. He would take it. Him. Whatever. He would buy this little animal so desperately clinging to life.

It was looking at him now, the blue eyes glued to Bruce’s face, and instinctively Bruce knew that he had made the right choice. That he had done what he had been born to do.

Shiva didn’t sound quite as convinced of his genius:

“You’re sure, Bruce? This thing will die on you.”

“Maybe, Lady Shiva, but it could also be the beginning of something great.”

Maybe that had sounded cheesy but staring into the eyes of this creature so different and yet so similar to him, he couldn’t regret his decision or his wording. This would be the beginning of something great. Bruce knew it.

“Okay, we pay you 15 gold, no cent more, for this poor dying creature. And Bruce? You can use the tank for a week. If it doesn’t die, you build yourself your own with your own money.”

“Yes, sir.”

Bruce was grinning when he heard Shiva agree, when the transaction was fulfilled. He was still grinning when his hand started combing through the strands of inhumanly thick black hair on top of the creature’s skull, teasing a soft keen from the small mer:

“Hey, small one, I am Bruce Wayne. And I’ll take care of you from now on.”

It was easy to grab the mer and lift it out of the water, and Bruce ignored the voices of concern from Zucco’s crew when he carried the youngling out of the holding bay, following Shiva as she made her way back onto their own vessel. Her voice was silent and precise when she told him:

“Get that thing settled in the tank, and then prepare the crew for capsizing this dumpster fire. The sooner we burn this floating trashcan, the sooner I can have my money back. And my dignity.”

With one last look towards the dying creature in his arms and the disgusting exterior of the _Pino &Umberto_, Bruce nodded:

“Yes, sir. The crew will be ready to board and capsize as soon as possible.”

“Good, and now take care of that pet of yours. Good luck with that.”

Looking down on the prized possession in his arms, Bruce couldn’t agree more:

This was a sign of good luck.


	2. Jason

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick is gone after a battle with the feared pirate Joker left him injured - and made him fight with Bruce. But there is always something else going on, and Bruce knows that there is change in the air!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and Welcome Back! <3  
> Thank you all so much for the love and the appreciation! You guys are great!  
> And here are even more mermaids! Yay!
> 
> Warnings: Child abandonment (briefly)

Bruce Wayne, no, Captain Bruce Wayne stood on deck of the _Dark Bat_ , letting the salty breeze wash over him.

They had lost the third ship of his fleet since Dick decided to leave them behind, and Bruce knew he would have to account for a different strategy soon, if Dick really wasn’t coming back.

But maybe continuing with their tactic of using underwater distractions to capture and capsize ships was his way of worrying about his son. At least that was what Clark said, and ever since his First Mate had come onto the ship years earlier, Bruce had his annoying voice in his head whenever emotions were involved in the makings of a decision.

Disgusting.

But at the same time Bruce knew that Clark was probably right. Bruce kept using a method that didn’t work anymore as a way to remind himself of Dick. It felt weird to have an illogical reaction like this, Bruce always taking pride in his rationality and cool head.

Not now. Not since Dick had wormed his way into his heart, first as this tiny dying thing on board of a despicable mer hunting vessel and then as a headstrong teenager with his own goals and fears. If only Bruce had been able to tell Dick more often, that he did in fact value his opinion, but that ruthlessly destroying every vessel fishing in the seven seas wouldn’t help anyone.

That Bruce could understand, he himself only chasing this goal because his parents had died as well, and that he had wanted to create a world in which travelers could cross the sea in safety.

That he knew where Dick was coming from.

But his vague understanding hadn’t been enough for the shark mermaid, his son leaving after they… _fought_ when the Joker came too close to harpooning Dick during a simple scouting mission. It had been too close, and now, months away from the event, Bruce was even able to see that maybe his own reaction had been quite aggressive, fear and worry hiding behind his anger over being disobeyed.

Or maybe that was Clark’s voice again, telling Bruce over and over that it was okay to have emotions.

Still, Bruce had come to a point in which he would happily welcome Dick back into his fleet, his family, if only that meant he knew his son was okay. Just… until then it wouldn’t be fair to his crew to continue with a strategy he only held onto because of sentimental value.

They would change course in the morning, Bruce decided. Away from the illegal fishing grounds Dick loved to haunt and terrorize, and towards Star harbor to stock up their supplies and converse with Oliver Queen about the possibilities of gaining the feared Black Canary for their cause.

The inn keeper was one of the most trusted information brokers Bruce knew, someone who had a past similar to Bruce, and a few adventures under his belt as well. He was someone many of the more unsavory – but because of that oftentimes more humane – travelers of the Seven Seas liked to tell stories too, frequenting his many inns and taverns and bars.

It would be a hassle to convince Olli to share what Bruce wanted him to share and to talk about what Bruce needed to hear, but Oliver had never once sold the information he had into the wrong hands, and Bruce could value that. And he would suffer through horrible puns and bad alcohol for it as well.

But they weren’t in Star Harbor as of yet, quite far away from it actually, and Bruce let his gaze sweep over the gentle waves of the silent ocean in front of him. It was dark, only the light of the moon and the myriad of stars illuminating the blue-black masses in front of him, but Bruce loved the ocean when it was like this.

When he was able to ignore the sounds of men and women working and cleaning and having a good time. When he was able to ignore the longing for more, for victory, for his son, and could just see the great expanses in front of him, feeling like a man fighting the gods and winning.

Maybe that was why it took him so long to notice that something was wrong. That something was different.

He could hear the sound of seagulls in the distance. Something that Bruce shouldn’t be hearing since it was night, not a glimpse of light visible on the horizon, and their ship was currently sailing over the deep ocean, far away from any shore. And yet Bruce could hear it quite clearly: The sound of angry seagulls, intercepted with piercing yells and screams.

There was someone needing help. And Bruce might be a pirate, and he might have killed and sunk and fought, but he would never pass by a person in distress without at least trying to save them.

“Attention! Olsen! I want you in the Crow’s Nest in ten! Kent?”

As if he had superhuman speed Clark appeared at Bruce’s side only moments after Bruce had called for attention, ready to follow his captain’s orders even during his few off-hours during the night.

“Captain?”

“I want you to correct our course to 27°4’88” north. And keep look out for anything suspicious. The birds are going crazy!”

“Aye, aye, Captain! Changing course now! Luke, Tam, Tiff! I want to see you in the rigging immediately!”

And where the ship had been almost motionless minutes earlier it was now a flurry of movement, the night crew running and jumping on deck, ready to change course in the middle of the night. It was a routine all of them were capable of following in their sleep, but Bruce’s chest filled with pride when he watched the crew of his most trusted vessel work like a well-oiled machine.

Like a family.

“Captain?”

It was Olsen, yelling down from the Crow’s Nest, something close to wonder in his voice.

“Yes?”

“I see a rock formation on 27° north, and… the seagulls are fighting about something. It looks like a child!”

That only strengthened Bruce’s resolve. They would reach those rocks and they would save the child, even if Bruce had a feeling in his stomach that there was more to the story than he could even begin to imagine.

In that moment a ruck went through the ship, changing their course and maybe even their fate.

Soon enough the rocks Olsen had spotted came into view for the rest of them as well, the cloud of screaming seagulls a sure sign that they had reached the right destination.

Bruce listened as the yells of pain and fear that had originally alerted him to the importance of these stones grew only far and few in between. There was no way to tell if they had been fast enough until Bruce had crossed the last stretch of water in one of their lifeboats.

The moment he stepped onto the small boat, about to be lowered onto the water, Clark stopped him, his hand warm, his face full of understanding:

“We did all we could. It ain’t our fault if the kid is dead. I want you to remember that, yeah?”

“Hn. Don’t worry about me. Just make sure my ship doesn’t sink while I’m away.”

“Aye, aye, Captain.”

There was fondness in Clark’s gaze when Bruce turned away from him, and once again did Bruce realize that his First Mate was so much more than just a general on his ship. He was his best friend as well.

Small waves sent the lifeboat up and down, the tiny thing swaying far more than the _Dark Bat_ did in the rather calm ocean waters. And yet it was no trouble for Bruce, who had practically been born on board of a ship, his father a traveling doctor, his mother interested in trade. The up and down of the sea was soothing for his nerves, hiding the worry he felt the closer to the rocks he steered his boat. 

It didn’t take long for him to reach the biggest of the rocks, the waves becoming wilder and harder to navigate in the small space Bruce had to maneuver through. And yet he did it, the screeching above him almost earsplittingly loud.

His hands felt numb from the cold spray of the ocean and it was harder than it should be to tie the boat down on a piece of stone sticking out of the larger rock like a handle. Bruce was nimble when he climbed the rock, evading slippery patches and the seagulls that saw him as a threat to whatever they had hidden away on top.

And they should.

Bruce was here to steal the child these annoying pests were trying to eat.

But that wasn’t what he saw when he reached the top of his climb. Instead of the body of a child greeting him, it was… well, it was still a child but unlike any Bruce had ever seen before.

The kid was tiny, barely the length of his arm, and while a set of giant green eyes stared back at him, Bruce couldn’t quite grasp what the legs of the child looked like. Because the kid had no legs. And yet it didn’t have a tail either.

Ten tentacles, two rather thick and long, eight smaller and nimbler, started from a place Bruce would describe as the waist on a human. Bruce wasn’t sure what color they had exactly, but he would guess a slight orange like the rest of the kid’s skin, now that the horizon started to brighten, the sun started to rise.

And with each tender trail of light that reached them, Bruce could understand more and more of the distress this creature was in. Its gills were anxiously fanning, the thin skin looking painfully dry. The seagulls were getting braver and bolder by the minute, and Bruce could see from the soft looking hands the kid sported that it had tried to fight for its life. And that it knew it had lost.

Bruce was slow when he crawled closer to the child, his hands raised in what he hoped came across as a pacifying gesture, his mouth closed, after Dick had told him that he had basically declared war on Dick each time he had smiled at his son when he was younger.

The creature’s eyes followed him and if Bruce hadn’t known better, he would have said that there was curiosity shining in them next to the fear.

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay… I’m gonna take you with me and then the seagulls can’t get you…”

Bruce knew it was rather unimportant what kind of words left his mouth, as long as he said them as non-threateningly as possible, but he liked to keep people informed if he didn’t have a reason for lying. He had done the same with Dick before the boy had learned enough English to understand Bruce and the crew when they talked.

“I’ll get you and then everything will be fine… some nice fresh water… some fish… maybe we can even find your mama…”

“Are you a human?”

The voice, a slight lisp, a strong accent, ripped every attempt of Bruce to stay calm and collected right out of his grasp. Where he had cowered before to appear less threatening, he now sat up, disbelieve tangible in his every movement.

The creature had spoken. The child had spoken.

Bruce couldn’t believe his ears, and he most certainly couldn’t believe his eyes when the child opened its mouth once again, hardened plates instead of teeth visible, and spoke:

“I have never seen one… but baba said you are scary… you don’t see scary.“

“I… I am a human. But…”

“Oh… no one is believe me I saw a real human.”

The child seemed happy to talk to him, but Bruce was forced to confront the fact, that even if the creature was able to talk, that didn’t mean that it wasn’t also in dire need of assistance.

“I came here to save you – or to help you?”

“Oh…”

“Do you need it? Can I take you down to the water?”

Now that he was closer Bruce could see just how much the child was struggling, its eyes threatening to fall closed behind see through lids. And he could see just how tiny this small creature was, only two feet long if Bruce wanted to be really generous in his assessment.

But, still, the mer – Bruce was almost sure it was a mer – continued to talk with a bravado that couldn’t be real, but was probably the only thing holding the child together:

“I… don’t know… baba said I should wait for him… said he be back…”

“Who leaves their baby alone on a rock full of gulls?”

“Hey, I’m twelve.”

The kid seemed adamant about it, but Bruce had heard enough. Whatever sea monster this child’s parent was, Bruce wouldn’t sit by and let a swarm of hungry bastard birds eat a defenseless youngling. Especially not one so small.

He scooped up the tiny bundle of a child, its tentacles weakly wrapping themselves around his arm and hurried to the side of the rock his boat was tied to.

“Yeah, twelve months maybe…”

“Hey…”

“It’s okay. I’ll take you back to my ship and we’ll make sure you’re okay. We have so much water. And fish. What’s your name, hn?”

“ _Juggthh_ … but I always liked the sound of Jay…”

Bruce knew instinctively that he wouldn’t be able to pronounce the name that had sounded so easy coming from Jay, just as he had never been quite able to pronounce the name Dick’s parents had given him. But Jay, Jay was a name Bruce could use.

“Okay, Jay-lad. Then I’ll just need you to hold on a bit longer, yeah?”

“Hm…”

Jay was worryingly still in Bruce’s grasp, but he had reached his boat, gently lowering himself and his precious find into the small vessel. Almost immediately he started pouring water into the bottom, not enough to sink it, but enough to coat Jay in a layer of wet. It would have to do for now.

Once they had reached the _Dark Bat_ Bruce would be able to provide Jay with everything he needed. Everything he could ask for.


	3. Tim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shaken by the loss of his son Jay, Bruce is more than ready to take on another challenge to distract himself from the pain: Taking over Gotham. But there might be someone else he has to meet first...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!  
> A few days late, but that prompt took me and shook me and made me write it..  
> But here I am and with me I bring: Tim!  
> Thank you all so much for the continues support! I love all of your comments and kudos and bookmarks so, so much!!! <3
> 
> Warnings: Past Character Death (it is Jason), Mentions of War and Mer Trafficking

Troubling times awaited them.

There was a storm brewing on the horizon both figuratively and literally. Bruce watched the dark clouds form from the safety of his cabin, protected from the harsh winds building up by a plane of glass and the knowledge that the _Dark Bat_ was capable of withstanding anything.

But even knowing that this storm would only cost him the manpower of his crew keeping the ship upright, did nothing to quell the concern when it came to the disputes along the coast cities, that made it harder for the ships of his fleet to gather supplies. For some of them capsizing was the only source of income left, scurvy becoming a problem for many of the men and women working on his vessels.

Bruce wouldn’t stand for this. Couldn’t stand for this.

“What was that plan you proposed again, Clark?”

The man in question had waited patiently for Bruce to turn around, ever since he had entered the captain’s cabin over an hour earlier. Clark had his own ship to captain now, the _Striking Justice_ , a beautiful vessel Bruce had gifted him after they destroyed first the Meronis and then the Falcones, both large crime families who had taken great joy in hunting and trading mermaids. And while Clark was still his most trusted ally, his dearest friend, it had gotten harder and harder for them to see each other, the distance Bruce’s mission forced between them growing.

“Dick rallied a group of independent mers, with his help and Queen keeping the Marine out of Star harbor, we should be able to build a fortress. A base that is near water, preferably an island, we can defend and trade on. And if we declare it a sovereign nation, the Marine’s hands are tied. Barbara will make sure they are.”

“Hn”

“Just think about it, Bruce. No more running. No more hiding. A throne for our empire. I know, Jay’s death-“

“I want Gotham.”

His tone was final.

This plan might be crazy, they might risk so much more than they could gain, but Clark was forcing his hand. If the question was going forward with this crazy endeavor or dealing with the hole in his heart that Jay had left behind, Bruce would choose claiming an island as his own every time.

And what better island was there, than Gotham? The trading city had had a bad reputation ever since it stood with the Marine in the last war, but Bruce had a soft spot for the hellhole that created his parents. And how could he show the Marine his contempt better, than with claiming one of their corruption infested strongholds for himself?

Bruce liked this plan more and more each second.

Behind him Clark sighed, though it wasn’t a weary sigh or a disappointed one. It was a sigh of fond exasperation:

“Well, Gotham it is then.”

“Yes. It has many advantages. They have intact trading routes and an armory full of explosives.”

“And Alfred Pennyworth.”

“And him.”

Alfred Pennyworth had been the steward to Thomas Wayne’s ship doctor business, and he had been the man to raise Bruce after they died. The two of them had a falling-out when Bruce joined the military, but in the years since then Bruce had kept a steady line of communication with the fierce but loveable old man.

That Alfred liked to spend his time spying on everyone who let him in their houses, had nothing to do with the fond emotions Bruce felt whenever he thought of the steward. He should write him again. Rather sooner than later.

The first sounds of thunder rumbling over the sky interrupted Bruce’s train of thought, and a glance out of the window told him that the storm had reached them. Lightning painted the waves first white and then utterly black, the wind throwing wave after wave against the hull of the _Dark Bat_.

Bruce used to like storms – it was so much harder to enjoy them now.

“How is Dick doing? Is he currently with this ship or…?”

Clark had come up next to Bruce, lending his companionship while they stared into the raging world outside. There was something wistful in his voice and Bruce remembered that Clark loved the shark mermaid, and that when Dick had been little, learning English and snapping at Clark at every opportunity he got, Clark had just laughed every time and wished Dick better luck for his next try.

And Bruce wanted that time back, too, or the short few months he had been allowed to share both with Dick and with Jay.

That had been the happy days, Jay finally big enough that Bruce no longer had to fear a heart attack when his squid-related son vanished into the dark blue depths of the ocean, and Dick rejoining Bruce’s crusade after he spent years fighting on his own, destroying fisher boat after fisher boat, finding friends and losing them, with the promise that Bruce would not only save the travelers and the innocent from the horror of men, but the sea creatures as well.

Bruce had been happy to agree, just overcome with relief that Dick had come back to him.

Not like Jay. Jay, who was dead. Jay, who had been killed by the Joker’s attack, a harpoon piercing his soft skin, tearing him down.

Jay, who wouldn’t come back.

Jay, who would never again tell him about this “radio” he found in an old Marine vessel as a youngling, playing with it until he could listen to the weird noises’ humans made. Jay, who would never again prattle on about the wonders of technology or how he had taught himself English just with the help of the transmitter whenever his father wasn’t there.

Jay, who would never again mock his brother’s distaste for the English language or tease him with the fact that one day Jay would surpass Dick’s rather impressive length.

Because Jay was gone. Dead.

“Dick is out scouting. He reported suspicious behavior in a lagoon near Keystone Port at the hands of a couple of traders. He should be back soon.”

“You know, there is nothing wrong with worrying about him? Even if he is a big and strong mermaid, who needs no one… you are his _dad_. Worry about him. And if you ever want to talk about-“

“Clark!”

Clark might be his best friend, but there were lines he wasn’t allowed to cross. Lines Bruce wouldn’t let him cross, not with him, not with his captain.

“Sorry. That was out of turn.”

“Apology accepted.”

Silence settled back over the duo, only interrupted by the harsh sound of thunder and the creaking and groaning of wood as the _Dark Bat_ battled against the tides, battled against the storm throwing her around like a puppet.

It wasn’t the worst storm Bruce had ever experienced, his stance strong even with the ship falling and rising wildly, Clark just as secure in his place next to Bruce, their gazes never leaving the spectacle of water and air fighting a battle worthy of the Gods.

It was then that Clark noticed something:

“Bruce? Is that…? Is that Dick?”

And Bruce’s gaze followed Clark’s outstretched arm, his eyes finding what Clark had seen only moments earlier. A small blob, appearing in the valleys of crashing waves only to vanish again when another gust of wind pushed the sea to rebel. But, no, Bruce had had recognized the same thing Clark had.

Dick’s impressive tail fin had broken through the surface of the water, only shortly followed by the dark mess that was his hair. And he was getting closer. Without having to talk to his son, or being forced to play a game of charades, Bruce knew where he had to be next: The underground bay.

He left his cabin in a hurry, Clark only a few steps behind him, both men knowing that they would be greeted by Dick and whatever had made him return in the middle of a storm, as soon as they reached their destination.

When Bruce had taken over the _Nevermore_ from Shiva, he had called the glorious ship _Dark Bat_ as well, but soon it had become apparent that Bruce would need his own vessel, designed after the needs of him and his son.

The true _Dark Bat_ had been born then, a powerful ship, fast, majestic, _glorious_. But that hadn’t been the reason Bruce let them built it, no, he had built it for the underground bay alone. A complicated contraption, a double door system, that allowed for Dick to travel inside the ship and for Bruce to greet him in an area of the underbelly of the _Dark Bat_ that was large enough even for a fully-grown shark mermaid to comfortably lay in.

Bruce had made many trips down there since the ship was first let to water, first for Dick once he refused to go back into the tank that located next to the captain’s cabin, and then for Jay once the Squid mer had reached his first growth spurt.

And now he was following this well-traveled path once again, until he reached the reinforced doors leading to the bay. He took a deep breath before he was ready to open them, Clark’s presence in his back a calming influence.

But he did it. He pushed the door open and walked into the room.

But it wasn’t blood and heartbreak that greeted him, not yet more bad news, no, it was Dick grinning in the way he had learned from Bruce, showing off rows and rows of sharp teeth.

“Dick. What are you doing here?”

“Aren’t you happy to see me?”

There was a pout in his voice, and Bruce had to remind himself once again, that this cheeky grinning mer with the accent he never managed to loose, was a vicious beast to anyone he wanted to harm, and a force to be reckoned with in every battle. Dick had many friends, and an agenda that could only be describes as bloody, but in Bruce’s eyes he would always be this tiny, dying mermaid child, that had been ready to bite Bruce’s throat out the moment he had started to heal.

“Hey, Dick!”

“Clark!”

Clark, of course, had no trouble to relax when the impending doom wasn’t showing itself, instead smiling and getting closer to the part of the bay that was filled with water.

“Dick. You know I am happy to see you. But you planned on returning maybe tomorrow or the day after. Not today. Not during a storm.”

Dick’s face lost its glee when Bruce spoke, remembering why Bruce no longer loved the chaos of water meeting air, the electricity of thunder and lightning.

Jay had loved it. Had always talked about how boring the deep sea of his childhood had been, and how storms were so much cooler than watching angler fish hunt their prey. And, at the same time, how much the lightning streaked darkness felt like home, since he was born from the deepest depths of the ocean.

Bruce couldn’t look at storms the same since… since Jay died.

“Ey… Here!”

Bruce hadn’t even noticed that Dick had hidden his arms away under the water-surface but now he was forced to. There was a child in Dick’s grasp, a young one, maybe eight or nine. Bruce stared but his eyes got stuck on the fact that the child had legs. Very human looking legs.

“What?”

Not just Bruce was surprised by suddenly being presented with a possibly drowned child, but Clark as well, the giant taking a cautionary step back. Dick sometimes forgot which of his trophies would be appropriate to show to humans.

“It… Timmy is a Siren! Timmy wake up!”

Dick shook the child and before Bruce could do anything, bleary eyes – a solid black – blinked open. The child struggled then, its arms and legs tiny in comparison to Dick, who had decided to cradle it against his chest, once he had proven to Clark and Bruce that his findling was alive.

“He is a Siren. Found him in the bay. They were monsters”

So, the traders in Keystone Port had been hunting and trafficking mers. But that didn’t explain the apparent Siren cradled against his son’s chest. Sirens were very rarely hunted, mostly because they made sure you died before you even tried.

But Dick didn’t care for Bruce’s or Clark’s confusion. Instead, he started to chatter with the child pressed against his chest, the ups and downs of his language foreign to Bruce’s ears even after years of trying to understand it. The child answered, his voice following a different tilt, and yet they seemed to understand each other perfectly. And yet the child’s voice was the sweetest thing he had ever heard.

A siren, indeed.

“Dick. I want answers. From your… siren guest as well!”

“He… Timmy needed me. Needs you. Right, Timmy?”

The answer was a shy nod, the child unable to hold Bruce’s gaze. And Bruce could feel something in his chest give, a tendril of softness unlocking the doors to his heart.

“Okay… Hey, small one, can you tell me your name? Or do you only speak mer?”

The last question had been directed at Dick, who looked like a proud father overseeing his daughter asking someone to a dance. But it wasn’t his son who answered, it was the tiny child, his voice clearer than even Jason’s had been while speaking English:

“Um, actually, all Sirens speak the tongue of humans. Or tongues, really.”

“Oh?”

“And… my name is Tim. Or Timmy. You can call me what you want, Mr. Wayne. I’ll be good, I promise.”

There was so much fear, so much naked angst in the kid’s – Tim’s – voice that Bruce could no longer ask himself why Dick had taken him, or where he had found him. Bruce would have done the same if it meant, that Tim no longer had to be this scared.

“It is quite alright, Tim, it is quite alright. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

Maybe storms could be more than a reminder of a son lost. Maybe they could be the reminder of one found as well.


	4. Jason (Again)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What starts out as a desperate attempt to save Dick's life, ends in so much more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! And I am back with a new chapter! Yay!  
> Thank you all sooooooo much for the comments, kudos and bookmarks! You guys are the sweetest! <3  
> The title for this chapter says it all, so I won't be playing around and let you guys enjoy it!
> 
> Warnings: Off Screen Character Death (No one Major)

The more time Bruce spent with Tim, the more he realized that what had appeared terribly human that first evening in the bay was anything but. For one there was his appearance, the deathly pale skin, the solid black eyes, the gills hidden on his side…

Whenever Bruce forced himself to describe Tim, it felt as if he was describing a human – just slightly off.

Then there was the fact that Tim could breathe outside of water just fine, even if he agreed that it felt like suffocating to breathe something as in-substantial as air. And even though Tim had legs, he couldn’t walk, no siren could, their humanoid form only created to lure humans into the sea, not to wander the continent.

They were still packed full of strength, capable of great feats and efforts, when it came to swimming or hunting or fighting. But on land, or on deck of the _Dark Bat_ , Tim was an elegant boy, who would count on Bruce to carry him everywhere he wanted to go.

And Bruce happily complied.

It had taken some getting used to, this siren that was so clearly not human, but just as clearly not like the mers Bruce had encountered before.

Tim was a tactician for one, hindered by his lack of singing voice, where other sirens would excel. Tim had been shaking and crying when he told Bruce that he was faulty, that not even his mother had wanted him because he couldn’t do what a siren was supposed to do:

Tim was unable to spin luring songs around a sailor’s head, unable to use his voice to make people follow his command.

But Bruce hadn’t been looking for a weapon or a siren tool to be used, he hadn’t searched for a siren who could sing and destroy his enemies at all. He had searched for something to help ease the pain of losing Jay, even if he hadn’t known it at the time.

And even for the off chance that Bruce had been searching for a siren like that, it didn’t take long for him to figure out that Tim might not have a song, but he made up for it in cunning.

The first time Tim had sent an enemy ship crashing against the rocks in front of their pirate fortress in Gotham, just by playing the helpless drowning child, Bruce had been shocked. Had been proud.

Bloodshed didn’t come naturally to Dick, it had been born from trauma and an all-compassing wrath at humanity, Jay had been partial to the fun of creating havoc much more than the actual hurting of others, but Tim? Tim took to killing those who threatened to harm Bruce with a calculated coldness and a curiosity in pain.

Bruce had been shocked. Tim had been ten, small for his age, the first time it happened, and even Dick reassuring him all sirens were like that, and that it tended to be the reason sirens and mers didn’t really mix, did nothing to sooth Bruce’s frayed nerves, whenever he feared for Tim and the people he encountered in the name of Bruce’s mission.

He wouldn’t be able to forgive himself, if any harm came to Tim because of him.

But still, things had changed in the couple of years since Tim had joined his crusade, witness to his ever-growing fleet and power. They had taken Gotham, declaring the island a sovereign nation under the reign of Alfred Pennyworth who was nice enough to harbor the most dangerous pirate fleet since the beginning of piracy. Who was nice enough to give them shelter and protection.

Barbara had managed to wrestle the Marine into submission, becoming the youngest and first female Admiral in the history of the institution, making it almost impossible for them to fight piracy and Bruce without breaking a law or toeing the line of disobeying direct orders.

They were at an effective standstill, one Bruce was happy to wait out, knowing that he would be the one to win, that he was the person who could wait and wait and wait until the time for the final strike had come.

Sometimes Bruce missed the old days, when it had just been him, his boat, Dick, and a handful of loyal crew members, but then he looked at Dick and Tim playing in the Gotham harbor, playfully hunting each other, or he looked at Clark and his first mate Louis, who had a forbidden romance going on everybody knew about, and he knew: It had been worth it.

Even if it meant losing some on the path to succession.

Even if Bruce would never be able to overcome the death of Jay.

But Clark once told him that parents weren’t made to lose their children, and that it was a pain you weren’t meant to overcome.

Maybe he had been right. Maybe losing Jay would be a pain that would never dull, just as the hurt over losing his parents had never faded.

And maybe that was the reason he was currently standing on the hull of the _Dark Bat_ staring into the waves, hunting a distress signal Dick had triggered. Tim was gliding along the ship’s side, his ethereal form almost vanishing in the waves as he effortlessly raced through the water, never slowing, never looking back.

Bruce had forced flares on Dick only weeks after Jay’s death, making it clear that he would be there if Dick ever needed him again. But this was the first time the flare had been used, its red glow painting the horizon in crimson and Bruce’s heart in fear.

The _Dark Bat_ was piercing through wave after wave when Hank Hall called down from the crow’s nest:

“Three ships, 12° south! They look like hunter vessels!”

Ice flooded Bruce’s veins. Hunters.

Theoretically the hunting and trade of mermaids wasn’t illegal, a business rather encouraged by many of the trading cities and countries bordering the sea, mermaid fins known as a culinary specialty and their teeth or scales used as talisman and jewelry.

And once upon a time Bruce had been indifferent when it came to the killing of mermaids, focused on making sure that the Marine and the pirates didn’t kill any more civilians like his parents. But then he had met Dick. Dick, whose entire school had been hunted and killed right in front of him.

Dick, who had been helpless, forced to watch his family die, only to be caught by hunters himself. Only to be caught, imprisoned and sold.

Dick, who might not have been human but was still a person.

And now his son was in the hands of the people he hated the most, maybe already hurt, maybe already dead.

If Bruce would be capable of magic, he would charm his ship into travelling faster, he would make them arrive in time, but Bruce was fretfully human, and not even the concerned yells and gasps from Tim would make them go faster. They would have to wait, each second they wasted, a second burned into Bruce’s brain with fear.

He couldn’t bear losing another child. He wasn’t strong like that, shouldn’t have to be strong enough or bear something like that at all.

And then the screaming started. It was faint at first, the _Dark Bat_ closing the distance towards the three hunting vessels steadily, but the closer they got, the clearer Bruce was able to hear his son scream for help. For salvation. For revenge.

Bruce was still unable to speak mer, but he didn’t have to, to understand the emotions behind Dick’s wails, and one glance at Tim, who had slowed next to the ship, confirmed what Bruce had feared: Dick was in pain.

“What is he saying?”

The three ships were clear as day now in front of them, the red glow of the flare had dispersed long ago, and the screaming was starting to hurt his ears, but they needed a plan of attack, they needed a strategy before they could really help his son.

“That…”

Tim seemed to hesitate for a moment, his voice strong even with the distance between them:

“That they should let them go. That he will kill them. That they should at least kill _him_ , and not just capture him like cowards… He… I think, he’s in a net. A strong one if he isn’t capable of breaking it.”

And Bruce could understand why Tim had been unsure about telling him. Dick hated nets, saw them as the worst that could happen to a mer, even worse than the harpoons that had taken so much from him. Because nets meant capture. Nets meant prolonged pain, instead of a quick end.

Now it was on Bruce to save his son. It was on him to make sure that Dick wouldn’t suffer, that he wouldn’t get caught:

“Attention! Ready the cannons! I want the sharpshooters on deck! Turn port!”

The men and women around him sprang into action, Harper Row, the current First Mate of the _Dark Bat_ , spinning the tiller until the ship groaned and changed course. In front of him Tim vanished into the sea, probably scouting closer to his brother, making sure that Dick wouldn’t be in harm’s way when Bruce’s cannons fired.

“Ready?”

“READY!”

His entire crew answered, the chorus of their voices strong, their conviction to help him save his son forged with iron and heat.

“Then: FIRE!”

A giant ruck went through the ship, twelve cannons firing at the same time, half of their cannonballs hitting the closest hunter vessel, the rest falling harmlessly into the ocean. It was a good turn-out, helped by the fact that the other ships had made the great mistake of ignoring the _Dark Bat_ until it was too late.

And too late for them it was, one of their ships already gravely damaged, the other two lagging behind in the actions it took to make a ship battle ready.

But before Bruce could order a second round of fire, Tim’s head appeared above water, his eyes wide, his voice too far away for Bruce to understand anything. He didn’t have to wait long, though, for whatever Tim had wanted to warn him about to appear.

It felt unreal to watch what happened next, Bruce’s brain struggling to understand that it was real. Two giant, red-striped arms came up from underneath the second hunting vessel, embracing the ship and pressing down until Bruce could hear the wood break and the crew scream from a few hundred yards away.

He was transfixed when the deep-sea monster heaved the breaking ship in the air, people and chunks of equipment falling back into the sea. It didn’t take long for the ship to break completely, for this once rather big hunting vessel to be reduced to a pile of wood floating and slowly sinking into the ocean.

The same thing happened to the last ship, and Bruce watched just as horrified the second time it happened, as he did the first time.

And then it was over, the only thing left the slowly sinking carcass of the ship Bruce had shot and the screams of drowning humans slowly being swallowed by the Seven Seas.

That’s when Bruce’s mind started working again, his eyes searching frantically for his son, not sure if the monster that helped them would be interested in eating Dick or saw him as a friend. Bruce knew that his voice sounded wild and uncontrolled when he screamed:

“DICK! DICK? Are you okay! TALK TO ME! DICK!”

“Bruce! BRUCE!!”

And yeah, there he was: His son swimming in his direction, big blue eyes wide, a trail of blood seeping into the water surrounding him. They had hurt him. They had hurt his son. Bruce felt every ounce of compassion he might have had for those hunters disappear from his body and mind.

“Dick! Are you hurt? Go to the bay! I can treat you there!”

But Dick was no longer focusing on him, his body vanishing under the surface, and for a moment Bruce feared that he was worse off than Bruce thought, but before he could react, Dick appeared again, a disbelieving look on his face:

“Bruce! He is back! Jay is back! Jay-Jay!”

Dick’s words left Bruce reeling, pain surging through his body. Jay was dead. Dick should know that. Should know how much it still hurt.

But before Bruce could tell Dick to just come inside, the water next to the _Dark Bat_ started moving, a shadow closing in from underneath. Bruce had no time to make any precautions, when a giant head broke through the surface of the ocean, rising and rising and rising, until the giant face was the same height as Bruce, oddly familiar green eyes greeting him:

“Hey, dad. Missed me?”

Bruce… Bruce couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Jay. His son. His dead son. His dead son was in front of him, ten-times the size he had been when he died, but still… his son. Un-mistakenly, his son:

“Jay-lad? Ten Ten? You…?”

“Long time no see?”

Only a disbelieving chuckle escaped Bruce.

He had gone to save one of his sons with the help of the other, only to get his lost child back as well.


	5. Cass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Sirens are at a rise - Bruce knows he has to act soon. But maybe dealing with his little stalker is more important...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
> I am still alive! And I am bringing you my lovely darling: Cass!   
> But first: Selina! ANd I love her!  
> Thank you all so much for your support! You are the best! I hope you are all looking after yourself and that you like what I can offer you!
> 
> Warnings: One comment about sex, talk about murder and war but nothing graphic at all since that all happens off screen, all Sirens play with gender

Bruce had known from the moment Tim told him about the whispers of rebellion hidden in the gossip of the lagoon sirens, that there was trouble to come. And yet, he hadn’t expected it to come in the form of Selina, sitting on the deck of the Dark Bat, dangling her elegant legs over the railing, ignoring the presence of a dozen pirates behind her back.

Ignoring Bruce.

It wasn’t the first time Bruce met this particular siren, Selina the Queen of the Gotham bay, haunting him since he first stepped onto the island to call it his own. She had observed him from afar, and she had spoken to him, the husky sound of her voice the most wonderful thing he had ever heard in his life.

And yet, she never once tried to kill him, never once lured him into the sea. Instead, all they did was talk, and sometimes playfully hunt each other.

Something told Bruce that this status quo would change sooner rather than later.

“Selina.”

He stood next to her, leaning onto the railing, her dark head at the level of his knees. She didn’t move, didn’t indicate that she had heard him or sensed his presence, but he knew she did. Just as Tim was always aware of his surroundings, so was Selina, a far more powerful – and older – siren than the boy Bruce called his son.

“Bruce.”

Her voice washed every doubt and every bad feeling away and Bruce could feel himself smile, even though he hadn’t been in the mood to do so only moments before. A siren’s magic was powerful. Deadly. Horrible.

His shoulders relaxed, his powerful captain’s stance melting until it was really Bruce Wayne standing next to her, and not the King of Pirates everyone feared. 

“What do you want?”

“They call you the Beast, did you know?”

It was typical Selina, answering his questions with one of her own, and yet Bruce couldn’t fight against the need to comply, to have this conversation in her terms alone:

“Who are ‘they’?”

“The sirens, the mermaids, the whales--- the Witches. I am sure the humans are calling you the same.”

The Witches.

The Sea Witches, beings so old and so full of magic, Bruce never had the chance to meet one. Jay had told him about them when he came back. How he had been terribly hurt, dying and sinking to the bottom of the ocean, when a Sea Witch saved him and nursed him back to health.

They had brought his son back to him, they were the reason Bruce finally – finally! – had Jason again, and yet he couldn’t stop himself from staying suspicious. From staying alert.

Especially since not even Jay, who had spent years down in the darkest parts of the ocean, could recall ever seeing a Sea Witch himself. As he recalled it, he had heard their voices echo in his head, had felt their touches sooth him and nurse him, but he had never seen them face to face at all.

“Dick… Dick told me that, yeah. He tried to make them call me Bat-Beast, since he claims that Bats are obviously my favorite animal, but it wouldn’t stick.”

It was easy to answer Selina, and years of building Gotham up as his fortress and dealing with this particular siren had taught him how do talk without ever saying anything at all.

“Dick, the shark, right? I heard, he and his army took apart the Blockbuster smuggling empire last month.”

“That they did.”

Pride was swelling up in his chest, amplified by the ways in which Selina made him feel things, experience things. Sometimes Bruce wondered what it would be like to sleep with her, if it would be as exhilarating as talking to her was.

But then he remembered that she was a siren, the reason for her existence the death of men who lusted after her.

It cleared his head for a moment, this reminder of her nature, and he dared to ask:

“What do you want, Selina?”

“The Joker...”

Ice flooded his veins, the mention of the crazy clown enough to bring back years of grief and wrath. It had been the Joker and his harpoons who hurt Jason. It had been the Joker and his weaponized clownfish who had hurt so many others, so many of the people Bruce knew and cared for.

“He is dead.”

Bruce had made sure of that. Tim had. Dick had. Hell, even Barbara had sent the Marine after the last remains of his fleet, destroying every trace the clown had ever reigned over the sea at all.

“That he is… But he created pain before he left, he hurt one of my sisters.”

Selina’s voice was silent, her tone sharp and precise, and Bruce was once again reminded that sirens might appear as seductresses and seducers, but that cunning was their real power after all. After years of watching Tim plan one tactical move after the other, destroy every enemy more swiftly than the one before, Bruce should have known that.

When Selina continued speaking, there was something sad in her voice, and Bruce knew he wouldn’t like what he got to hear next:

“Harley. He took her, inspired by you and your following of loyal little lapdog mers, and tried to turn her into a weapon. Twisted her around. Make her go crazy. Crazier, really. We broke her free. Most of us might be favoring solitude, but we know what sisterhood means.”

Bruce tried not to be offended by her words, knowing that there was a hint of truth in them no matter how itchy it made him feel to consider his sons as servants. Instead he tried to focus on what else she had said, the other hints of things to come hidden in her speech.

Tim had explained him a long time ago, when Bruce had first met him and let it slip that he had never heard of a male siren before, that sirens only had one sex and conducted reproduction asexually. Most of them just chose to present what humans considered female, using the human pronouns when they spoke the human tongue. But Tim had always liked the male sounding pronouns better, his lack of singing voice the reason his peers abandoned him, never his choice of human gender.

“We are angry. All of us. Your little project has given humans ideas about what they should be allowed to do. We won’t stand for that-“

“Who is ‘we’?”

Selina’s dark gaze told him exactly what she thought about him interrupting her, but she answered him, still:

“Harley, Ivy, me. That’s ‘we’. The three queens of the biggest siren infested lagoons on this side of the ocean. We are rallying our troops to band together. To create something bigger, something stronger. Something that protects sirens against men like you. Against men like the Joker.”

Yeah, this wasn’t good at all. This meant war, and fighting, even though their goal was the same. This meant death and destruction and his sons in harm’s way.

Bruce looked at Selina then, her dark skin blending in with the wooden planks of the deck, her ethereal glow marking her as other, and asked: 

“But why tell me all this? You could have just killed me in my sleep and be done with it?”

“Because…”

She sounded amused, though Bruce knew he wasn’t imagining the hint of sadness underlying her tone.

“Because I see what you did for Timmy. I was never happy with what Janet did to her boy. It is rare for one of us not to be able to sing, and the old codes declare abandonment as an honored solution to this _problem_ , one I am not allowed to interfere with if it happens under my watch. I couldn’t help the boy, I had to sit by and watch as she left him, ready to be caught by traffickers, and I saw when your son saved him. I saw you take him in and raise him.”

They shared a look just then, the silent dark sea glittering a few feet beneath them, stars illuminating the night sky. And Bruce understood, he had shown her something most sea creatures didn’t believe in anymore: his humanity.

“It is your awfully soft heart, why I told you. I want you to have a chance. And I want this to end in something else besides a bloodbath. And for that I need you to be ready, when Ivy or Harley or even Helena come knocking on your door. So, you can show them what I saw in your weirdly shaped human body all those years ago: A hint of compassion.”

All he could do was nod, when she smiled at him then, hope glistering in the solid black of her eyes, her teeth sharp when she showed them to him.

“I’ll try my best.”

“You better do that, Bat”

And with that she glided through the bars of the railing as if they weren’t there at all, her body hitting the water underneath with the barest hint of a splash. She left Bruce standing there, staring across the water, wondering just what had happened. Just what was about to come.

It was then that he noticed a ripple in the surface of the ocean, one that had happened previously during his talk with Selina as well.

“Hello?”

There was no answer, but Bruce saw the water move as something dived away, the night too dark and the water too deep for him to see just who his nighttime visitor had been.

But they came back.

Over the next few days, while Bruce readied the _Dark Bat_ for a meeting in the north with Black Canary and her fleet, regarding a problem the feared pirate captain had with a sea monster called Bane, he saw a shadow move around his boat almost constantly.

He never managed to get a good enough look at it to know what it was, siren or mer, but he knew it was observing him, he knew it was constantly watching.

And then after over a week of hard labor and grueling planning, Bruce had had enough of this game of cat and mouse and decided to hide away in one of the lifeboats currently drifting next to the _Dark Bat_ to test their durability and safety for the journey to come.

He was ready for a long night, one that would bear no fruit, but he certainly hadn’t counted on the sounds of frantic swimming to be audible so soon. The moon hadn’t even risen yet, when Bruce heard the noise he remembered Dick making when he had been little and nervous about something, his fins betraying him by splashing the water loud enough for Bruce to notice.

Bruce let his gaze sweep over the surface of the dark ocean and he could see his tiny shadow circling the ship, searching for something, searching for Bruce, who had made his disappearance impossible to notice.

Soon enough the shadow came closer and Bruce got a glimpse of his stalker when the moonlight chose that moment to break free behind the clouds, sending its silver light dancing across the water. And Bruce’s breath caught, because his tiny stalker was a mermaid, probably the prettiest one he had ever seen.

Their flippers were long, long bands in multiple colors, their tailfin of an exceptional length and beauty, and their eyes big and dark, looking in Bruce’s direction but probably not seeing him at all.

He had to show himself. He had to gain this mermaid’s trust, Bruce knew it.

As slowly as possible, Bruce pushed the tarp away from his head, straightening his back, never letting his gaze stray away from the frantic mer in front of him.

“Hey.”

His voice was almost inaudible, and yet he could see the creature flinch when they heard it. Bruce raised his hands, showing that he had no claws, that he had no weapons, before he continued talking:

“I am Bruce Wayne. I don’t know if you speak a human language or only mer, but… it is nice to meet you.”

The mer stared at him, their big eyes following every move Bruce made, no matter how small and insignificant it may be with intelligence and curiosity burning in them.

“I don’t know why you are here. But you can stay. You can meet my sons if you want. Tim is a siren, and he loves puzzle games, Dick is a mermaid like you, a shark one, and he is really good when it comes to jumps and tricks, Jay… well, it is hard to miss Jay when he is here, he is a Squid mer, but he loves stories, all kinds of them. I’ll be meeting them soon.”

Once again, he didn’t get an answer, but the mer stayed, staring at him, slowly etching closer to his boat. And Bruce continued talking, about his sons, about his friends, about Alfred, about the upcoming journey.

Bruce continued talking, only stopping when the sun began to rise and the small mermaid child blearily blinked into the direction of the light before vanishing into the depths of the ocean, a place Bruce had no chance to follow them to.

But that was okay. Bruce would be back tomorrow. And the day after.

Bruce would be back in this lifeboat trailing the _Dark Bat_ , until he figured out just who his mysterious stalker was.

Just who he had met.


	6. Damian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is finally time for Bruce to unite all of his forces and get ready for the one battle to end it all. But his enemies, the Sea Witches, have one last surprise for him in tow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hewwo!  
> It has been a while, I know, but life is busy and I was writing!  
> Thank all of you avid readers out there! Kudos, Comments and Bookmarks make me extremely happy each time I see them! It is good to know when your writing reaches someone! And you guys are the best! <3
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: Some Talk About War, Gracious References to the Justice League

Cass was different from his other children; Bruce had realized that early on. It had taken him months to earn her trust, the process only barely speeding up after she met Dick and Tim and Jason. It had been Barbara, who had a breakthrough with Cass, who made it possible for Bruce to connect with his daughter at the end.

The Admiral had been in Gotham for “negotiations” with Alfred Pennyworth, and when she and Cass had made eye contact the two of them had just understood each other immediately. Barbara was the one who realized that maybe Cass spoke no language at all, that maybe they would have to start from zero with her.

Barbara had also been the one to give Cass her name, looking at the small child with her colorful scales and her long fins and declaring her a Cassandra. A bringer of Light.

The name had stuck.

And looking at his children now, all of them playing a highly complicated version of catch with rules Bruce couldn’t even begin to comprehend, it felt weird to think of Cass as this silent and shy little mer, when she was so much more. 

She was precise. Deadly. _(Well, all of them are)_ She had been sent to assassinate him, the Sea Witches angry with Bruce for a multitude of things, but mostly for swaying the Council of Sirens to be on his side. They had already traveled together for months when she told Bruce that, her English just now being good enough for her to share her secrets.

Her pod, her people, were all in the business of killing, and as Dick told him in confidence, most lionfish mermaids usually worked for the Sea Witches, fulfilling what those beings Bruce only knew from tales and Jason’s vague retellings couldn’t do themselves. And Bruce knew that this was the first sign of yet another test, yet another war, the Sea Witches sending someone after him personally.

A confrontation was inevitable, and yet one Bruce feared with all his heart, all his might.

Just watching his kids play – Jay throwing Tim through the air, the siren yelling in delight when Dick caught him and dived down into the dark blue of the ocean, only to have Cass twist around Dick until Tim was free again – sent surges of love and joy through him.

Not one of them had had an easy life, most of them still hadn’t, Bruce’s choices making sure that they had to fight no matter what, but still he could see joy in them. All of them were caught in his war, in his mission, and yet they laughed.

And yet, Jason made dumb jokes or annoyed Bruce into building him one of these “radios” to listen to. And, yet, Dick performed tricks his school had taught him when he was little, whenever he came home from his myriad of missions and he laughed when he broke the surface of the ocean, water catching in his fins. Tim still pleaded for new puzzle boxes and played with the maps he found in Bruce’s cabin, being mischievous and happy and free. And Cass laughed when she managed to surprise Bruce and she smiled and she played and she enjoyed herself whenever all of them were home, circling the _Dark Bat_.

All of them were generals in his war, monsters their enemies feared, and yet all Bruce could see was the smile gracing Cass’s face, her pulled back lips showing the world just how sharp and dangerous her teeth were.

She was a force to be reckoned with. She was strong and silent and faster than any of the boys. Her skin was deadly for Bruce to touch and she was one of the best when it came to killing unsuspecting humans.

Cass refused to explain to him why she hadn’t killed him, why she had decided to listen instead to words she couldn’t understand, a voice she didn’t know. And after months spent together, after over a year of traveling from Gotham across the ocean and back, his curiosity had ceased.

He trusted his daughter to have her reasons, just as he trusted his sons to know why they stayed.

Nevertheless, moments as pure as this one were rare, the five of them almost never having a reason to stay in the same part of the Seven Seas.

Tim frequented Gotham and the lagoons of islands nearby, the great expanse of the ocean not something he enjoyed exploring. And Gotham needed him, Tim being the one to make sure enemy ships never made it past the bay. That only their guests arrived in safety.

Jay lived in the deep parts of the sea, his giant form made for great depths and open spaces. He visited them, greeting ships from Bruce’s fleet with waving tentacles and a troublemaker smile, but most of the time he became a legend, a monster destroying ships from underneath, never showing itself to the enemy, only leaving them with a trail of destruction.

Dick traveled from bay to lagoon to the depths of the dark blue ocean, scouting trading routes and only coming back to share intel with Bruce or to visit his siblings. He had his own group of mers, beings and creatures just as vicious as him, just as keen on destroying every human who had ever hurt a mer. They were fearsome. They were unstoppable. They were the force mers needed to believe in. They were the Titans holding up the sky to safe the sea. 

Cass rarely left his side, her body comfortable in the silent waters of the harbors Bruce frequented and in the expanse of the ocean the _Dark Bat_ crossed. She left him only when Bruce asked her to kill someone, someone Bruce didn’t want anyone to know had died through his hand, or when she was mad at him, hiding away and joining Barbara on her adventures on the other side of the world.

It was jarring to know what all of them were capable of, and yet it only filled him with pride.

These creatures were his children. These children were forces of nature the world wasn’t ready for.

But soon, Bruce knew, there would be another conflict, one he wasn’t sure they could win. One he wasn’t sure he could help his children fight.

If what Cass told him was true, then the Sea Witches were ready to engage in a battle with Bruce. It no longer were the humans who threatened his empire, it were beings so old and so mysterious, Bruce had only been able to find a handful of texts depicting their existence, Barbara finding even less.

The Sea Witches were something his children had told him about. Dick had explained to him how his family had asked for their blessings before an especially dangerous travel, or for them to remember the dead the school hadn’t been able to carry with them to one of their burial ground. He had never seen one, but when Dick talked about them, they sounded like gods.

Jason had been franc in his recounting, his memories of the time spent in the caves of the Sea Witches spotty at best. Tim hadn’t known much either, the sirens staying as far away from the Witches as possible. Selina explained to Bruce why, one day, how their magics didn’t mix, how the Sea Witches had managed to bind something old to their soul, something older than humanity, and that sirens thrived on the young energy of those living on land.

Cass was once again the only one who had met a Sea Witch, her orders coming either from the head of her pod, or a Witch called Ra’s, who she described as the most powerful being she had ever met. And yet… And yet even she couldn’t tell him what to expect, what to prepare for.

But as far as Bruce could understand, keeping all of their retellings in mind, is was Ra’s who wanted him dead. And that while most Sea Witches existed under this leader, not all of them did, the ones not bound to the old Witch itself even more elusive and hard to find.

Which was the reason he had called all of them together, the meeting of his most trusted generals taking place near a formation of rocks old legends had named the Watchtower. While Bruce was standing on the hull of the _Dark Bat_ , watching his children play and chase each other, an army of ships filled the ocean behind him: Admiral Barbara on her Marine vessel _Oracle_ , Clark and his first mate Louis on the _Striking Justice_ , Black Canary and Oliver on the _Birds of Prey_ , Barry Allen on the _Lightening Speed_ , Elias and Victor Stone on the _Titan_.

The sea around them was moving; filled with the bodies of sirens Selina had managed to convince to listen to what Bruce had to say, with the glow of the deep-sea creatures Jay was friends with and the monsters Dick had formed a team with.

And as if there had been a sign, his children stopped playing, their bodies vanishing under the water for a moment only to appear again, all of them flanking his ship. Behind him Bruce could hear his most trusted captains board the _Dark Bat_ , their boots heavy on the wooden planks, their gaits those of people born for the sea. He could see Selina climb onto deck as well, from the corner of his eyes, and he knew he wasn’t imagining the dark glow circling his ship.

It was time for this meeting to start. It was time for Bruce to set his plan into motion, for all of them to know what the future held.

He turned around, his coat catching the wind for a moment, the black fabric fanning out in the shape of a bat, before it settled against his shoulders. The faces of his friends and allies were waiting for him, curiosity being obvious in some, while exasperation frequented others. These were his friends, the generals of the most fearsome and powerful fleet the Seven Seas had ever seen, and now Bruce was once again forced to ask great things of them:

“Welcome! And thank you all for meeting me at the Watchtower.” 

A murmur of greetings went through the small crowd, high pitched sounds telling Bruce that Tim translated whatever he said to his ocean-bound allies.

“We have managed great things – unbelievable things – together! We have made sure no mer has to fear a hunter ever again! And that those who harm you still, will face swift and gruesome justice! We have made sure that the travelers and doctors and traders of the Seven Seas no longer have to fear the Marine robbing them! The privateers killing them! Or the pirates selling them! We have brought peace to the oceans we travel! Together!”

A cheer went through the crowd, Bruce quite aware of the proud smile on Clark’s face. His best friend was a goof, and if Bruce had taken his time in writing better, more motivating speeches, because Clark had constantly mocked him when it had just been the two of them on deck of the _Dark Bat_ , then no one needed to know. Even though Bruce feared that Clark was more than aware of the reason for the increase in quality.

The ship shook, and for a moment Bruce feared the worst, until he saw reddish brown tentacles clinging to the side of the _Dark Bat_ , gently shaking her as if to celebrate as well. Jay. Ten-Ten. The boy loved to use his immense body for things like this, Bruce sometimes fearing that making fun of him was Jay’s only hobby besides destroying ships and listening to the “radio”.

But he wasn’t here to think about Jay or Clark or to talk about how great they all were. They knew that. And they also knew that they could be better. That there was always another storm brewing on the horizon:

“But now, we have to fight an enemy even greater than those we brought to their knees! We have to fight the sea itself!”

There was a ripple making its way through the water, but Bruce hoped that the mermaids and the sirens that had come to listen would wait before condoning him, that they would wait for him to finish speaking:

“The Sea Witches want me dead! They have sent their assassins after me! They have wished my demise! But we can’t let that happen! We can’t let them reclaim and destroy what we have fought so hard to win! What we have bled for! Died for! Killed for! This is our legacy! And we won’t let them take it away!”

An uproar went through the crowd and Bruce could see how ready to fight they were, how none of them would stand down, while the Sea Witches attacked. They were his people, his men, his friends and allies. They would always be by his side:

“But this won’t be a war like we know it! This won’t be a battle won by pure force! They are old! They are magic! They are more powerful than any cannon a ship can possess! We need to fight them with cunning! We need to fight them with trust! We need to fight them united – Mer and Man. Siren and Pirate. That is the only way we can win!”

Just as his speech came to a crescendo, a wave formed at the hull of his boat, a body jumping out of it and landing on deck in front of Bruce. For a moment Bruce thought that it was one of his children, or one of the mers Dick traveled the ocean with, but, no, a second look confirmed that that couldn’t be the case.

It was a kid, standing in front of him. Humanoid. The skin a few shades darker than Bruce’s, his eyes a dangerous green. The child looked completely human, even though Bruce was sure that he was anything but. When he was finally able to look directly into the kid’s face, the sounds of surprised yelling and screaming disappeared, only his own shock at seeing _this_ left thrumming in his ears.

The child looked like him. Like Bruce Wayne aged eight to ten, with a tan and a different eye color. It was… Bruce couldn’t… but he could. He remembered that night years ago. But that couldn’t… she had been human… this child was not… it couldn’t be… no…

“Hello, Father. I am Damian, heir to your Empire.”

Bruce didn’t know if it was possible but the noise outside and inside his head became even more deafening, the shock on his friends’ faces almost impossible to ignore.

“What?”

“I am your heir, Father. I am Damian, son of Talia, daughter of Ra’s al’Ghul, the oldest of our honored tribe. I am here to claim my birthright. I am here to claim your throne.”

Everything had just gotten so much more complicated.


	7. Stephanie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Bruce first laid eyes on Damian he didn't just have to fear fatherhood - he was a pro at that - but a curse that could ruin everything else as well. That could very well threaten all of his children. All of their fates!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya!  
> Thank you all so much for sticking around and commenting! I love all of you guys! You are the best! <3
> 
> Warnings for this chapter include: Swearing, Talk About Sex

They would have to act soon.

The anxiety of what might happen if Bruce didn’t react soon was slowly drowning him, but the possibilities of things going wrong were stifling. There had to be a solution to this problem, but Bruce just couldn’t find it.

“Now, please repeat again, what exactly you’ve got in exchange for banging a Sea Witch?”

Jay sounded curious, and Bruce couldn’t really blame him, even though they had talked about this for what felt like hours.

They were hidden away in a cave on the other side of Gotham, a secluded place no one besides his kids – not even Clark or Selina – knew about. The Cave was big and deep enough to fit Dick, Tim and Cass comfortably, and at least allow Jay’s upper body to join them for their secret meetings.

“You know that I wasn’t aware of Talia’s status as a Sea Witch. I was a young captain! I had just taken control of the _Nevermore_ a few years prior, no one had even heard of me yet, and when this Lady came, and we had fun…”

“You didn’t think twice when she asked you for your first-born child?”

There was real judgment in Tim’s voice, and Bruce was confronted with the fact that his sons – and his daughter – were currently chastising him over his choice in lovers. That somewhere since Damian had appeared on deck of the _Dark Bat -_ in a moment that should have been Bruce’s triumph, but hadn't turned out as such - his sons had turned the tables.

Not that there had been much to change, both Dick and Jason and Tim fully grown and adult mers for years now, their physiology developing differently from that of a human, faster in most cases, and less chained by taboos. But still, they had grown up under his watch, learning human costumes, and before Bruce knew it, he had a set of adult children, reprimanding him about his choices from a long time ago:

“I thought she was joking. She said that a man like me could have a great future and she would love to bless me, and it would only cost me my first-born child. And then she laughed.”

Bruce could see the doubt on their faces, could see the disbelieve shining in Tim’s dark eyes and Dick’s blues. They didn’t believe him. And Bruce could understand why. Their customs were different, all of them more than aware of the danger Witches possessed.

But Bruce had been young. And human. And not aware that Sea Witches were even a thing. Years had passed before Bruce had gotten any information out of Dick and not even Lady Shiva, who had known more about the ocean than any human Bruce had ever met, knew just who these magical creatures were.

“And this isn’t even the point right now! This is unimportant!”

“How is it unimportant that you slept with a Witch?”

Jay wouldn’t let it go, and Bruce could see the stubbornness in every line on his son’s face, in every dangling ship carcass Jay had braided into his hair. Bruce couldn't let this stand. It was time for him to remember that he might be their dad, but he was also their Captain:

“Because what is done, is done! Now we need to focus on making sure my… _mistake_ doesn’t kill us all! And I need you to be focused for that. I need you to concentrate!”

His children nodded, and Bruce felt relief wash through him. Thankfully, Damian wasn’t here as well, the boy prone to fits of temper and angry yelling. Bruce would love to bond with the kid, but until he couldn’t guarantee his safety, his secrets would have to protect them both.

But, still, Bruce _did_ try. He watched Damian when the boy thought no one was looking. He saw the kid smile and play and draw. He saw the light catch in the sea glass forming Damian’s body, and he saw the magic and the joy burning in his eyes.

It just never felt like enough. It felt like lying to a child he might not be able to protect:

“Thank you. There are a series of things we know.”

“Like, that you fucked a Sea Witch.”

“Yes, thank you, Ten-Ten. But that is not the important part.”

Bruce couldn't hide his annoyance, but luckily he didn't have to. At least not for long. It was Tim who spoke next, his voice as precise as ever:

“Yes, you got a blessing of good fortune from Talia in exchange for a child. That child is Damian, who is now on your island and no longer deep down in the lairs of the Sea Witches, which means that the deal you made with Talia… could end up falling apart. Which could cost us all our lives, since cursed bad luck usually leaves no one alive.”

“And the Witches are looking for a way to take you down.”

Cass’s voice sounded clipped, the words leaving her mouth having a rough edge, one Bruce knew came from being unfamiliar with speaking at all. But she was doing it. She spoke and loved it. She read his words and his body like no one else could, and she shared herself with the world.

And she was right.

The Sea Witches were searching for a way to take him down. They wanted to destroy him, and they wanted for him to lose the control he had worked so hard on to achieve. They wanted the chaos back that had reigned the ocean before Bruce had created this Kingdom of cold control and safe travel.

At least Ra’s did. Bruce was sure – from the tales of Damian, Dick and Jay – that there were other Sea Witches out there, not all of them fighting humanity but serving as the protectors of all creatures as well. And under different circumstances Bruce would love to meet a Witch, would love to find one of those ominous and whispered about beings and try to understand the power behind them.

But as long as one of them was ready to kill him, Bruce was more than ready to destroy them before they could even try.

“Sending Damian was probably their plan all along, knowing that it would make the deal naught and end in my death – which they have been trying to achieve for years now.”

These were grim prospects Bruce saw in his own future.

And the worst part was, it wasn’t even the fault of the kid. Damian was a plaything in this conflict, his presence a clever chess move on his mother’s part, but not something the kid was at fault for. And yet Bruce always saw Damian’s mother when he looked at the child, saw her cunning and her beauty and how she had used him. 

(Even though he had been more than happy to consent when they shared that night together)

Sea Witches sometimes had the power to sense the future and, looking at Damian, at the importance this one child held in a conflict so much bigger than just Bruce, he knew that Damian’s conception had been the first act in a game only Talia knew they were playing. Only Talia knew the rules to for a long, long time.

And he didn’t want that. He wanted to see Damian for what he was: A child who had not yet learned boundaries. A child, who had had a childhood without ever seeing light, the sun, the moon and the stars. A child, who had power and integrity and a place in the world that he could one day carve for himself.

A child, who loved to play and learn and prank.

Bruce wanted to teach Damian that he could be more than the plan he had been created for, that he could achieve things neither Bruce nor Talia had ever dreamt off, but as long as the deal bound all of them together, it would be a lie.

Because Damian was just a chess piece in this war, for as long as magic determined the rules.

“We could just send him back?”

Dick didn’t sound happy when he made the suggestion, Bruce could see that. And yet his son had made it, had offered up another life to ensure their own success. It was a logical conclusion, a rather simple solution to their problem, and yet Bruce had never thought that it would be Dick who brought it up.

Dick, who liked his siblings better than he liked Bruce. Dick, who had chosen anger and wrath over the kindness he had been born for.

“No. I won’t sacrifice him for my own good. I wouldn’t send you to your death knowingly, and I won’t send Damian back to disappoint his mother either.”

Bruce’s voice left no room for disagreements and yet Tim decided to speak nevertheless:

“So, his disappointed mother is worth more than the potential death of all of us? That’s what you are saying?”

“That is not what I meant, and you know it!”

“Well, that’s what it sounds like.”

And looking in the faces of his sons, Bruce could see that Dick and Jason agreed with Tim, that they both thought that Bruce was choosing Damian over them. He would have hoped that their trust in him was stronger, that their love would weather more disagreements than this. But when his eyes searched for the one face he still hoped to find encouragement in, he noticed that Cass was no longer visible, the colorful bands of her fins no longer dancing in the silent water.

So, she was mad at him as well. She had left him to fend for himself as well.

“It is not! And you know it! I have fought for all of you! I have saved all of you! And now you want me to turn my back on one of my children? You want me to not do the same for some other sea creature who needs my help? Wasn’t that my vow, though? To save as many people as possible, mer or siren or human. Why not a Sea Witch as well?”

His voice was louder than intended, his deep baritone reverberating from the Cave walls, a stony echo filling the room. For a moment he surprised himself with the anger that was spilling from his lips until he recognized it for what it was: Disappointment.

“I am disappointed in you. I thought you three, of all people, would understand. That you three would know why I have to do this. Why I need your help. I am… I am honestly shocked that you would act like this.”

The shame in their faces was palpable, Jay not meeting his eyes, Dick almost completely vanishing into the sea, and Tim wilting under the anger in Bruce’s voice. It was Jason who recovered the fastest, his years spent far away making him somewhat immune against Bruce’s displeasure:

“We are not saying that. We are just… are you really ready for this, B? You want to fight a war against the Sea Witches under Ra’s and without their blessing you won’t win. Is this child you barely know really worth it?”

“Yes.”

And there was not a hint of doubt in Bruce’s voice when he spoke, no hesitation or anger. It was just the truth. Damian deserved to be saved as well. Even if it put everything at risk. Even if Bruce had to change the world to make sure that his children would not suffer because of a decision he made.

Because, yes, he would do almost everything to make sure Damian could have the chances he deserved, but he would not risk the lives of his other children if he didn’t have to.

He would have to find a way to save them both, a way that would unite his needs, but he was Bruce Wayne, he was the Beast of the Seven Seas, and there was nothing yet he hadn’t managed to achieve.

Cass chose that moment to return, her head appearing next to Dick, her dark eyes focusing on Bruce’s face in a matter of seconds:

“B. I have help.”

Bruce could see that, a silhouette forming behind her, something formless when you first looked at it, but something that appeared more and more like a translucent human with a mess of light and colorful strands of hair, their existence stopping you from really understanding what you were seeing when you continued to stare. 

“Who is that?”

Bruce knew his question was important, and yet he could see how unimpressed Cass was by his show of concern. And even though Bruce had just asked something, he was surprised when he got an answer. An answer from the translucent being:

“Hello, I am Stephanie. Cass told me of your problem. I can help. I know how to solve it.”

“You do?”

“Oh, yes. We Sea Nettle Mers hear a great many things. We are great listeners. And we rarely gossip.” 

It was hard to make out a face under the mess of blond strands, but when Bruce found it, he could see a mischievous smile and eyes that promised danger. Bruce had the vague feeling, that Stephanie might know the answer to his problem, but that her existence promised trouble as well.

“Well, then, prove it: How can you help?”

“Did you know that Sea Witches are made from water… that they can dry out? That they can disappear and break down when no water is near?”

Bruce hadn’t known that.

“Tell me more.”

And Stephanie did, her words creating hope. Her knowledge paving a path into the future.


	8. Duke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The war is imminent. Before his ships can set sail though, there is one last thing Bruce has to do - one last person he has to meet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!  
> Second to last chapter, guys!!!!   
> I love all of you and your continuing support soooooooooooooo much! Thank you, thank you, thank you!! <3
> 
> Warnings: Talk about War, Self-Sacrifice (No Character Death)

It was the dawn of a new day. Maybe the dawn of their last day.

Bruce could feel the tension keeping his spine straight and his muscles coiled when he walked through the hallways of the _Dark Bat_ , his crew moving next to him, around him. Every person on this ship knew that there was a war on the horizon, that the battle would start soon, and this knowledge, this energy was visible in every step they took, in every order they followed like a well-oiled machine.

Damian met Bruce before he reached the deck of his vessel, the boy much calmer since the spell his mother had lain over him had been broken. Bruce couldn’t say if that was because of the actual spell being something that had kept Damian guarded, or if it was the uncertainty over his place in the world that had finally been destroyed when Bruce did everything to free him.

“Good morning, Father.”

“’Morning, Damian. Are you ready?”

“I was born for this.”

They stepped out of the hallway and into the sunlight, the day still in its early hours. Even more people were moving about here, Hall already in the crow’s nest, Row controlling the tiller while Bruce had slept. 

Bruce took his place on the hull of the _Dark Bat_ , Damian never leaving his side, and let his gaze wander over the ocean.

His entire fleet was greeting him, over two hundred ships waiting for him to give the sign. The sign that the war would start, that the fight would come. He could see the _Striking Justice_ , knew that the ship harbored his best friend, he saw the _Birds of Prey_ , and feared for those who would be in her way. He saw his friends and allies, but he also saw his sons.

The moving water that spoke of Jason tumbling through the sea, the battalion of mers that had unified under Dick’s banner of otherness and revenge, the silent movements of the sirens who would fight under Tim as well as under Selina and the Council.

He could also see his daughters. The moments of color that spoke of Cassandra and her deadly prowess, and the lionfish mers that had joined Bruce’s cause just for her, and he could see the clouds of yellow, knowing that it was Stephanie who let herself and the sea nettles she traveled with drift underneath the fleet, functioning like a safety net, deadly to everyone who dared to harm them from beneath.

His first impression of Stephanie had been right, she was a whirlwind of trouble. But she was also deceivably clever and beautifully stubborn. Bruce found that she was someone who would fight with him, without ever backing down, and in times so high in tension as these she had been the one who oftentimes told him to knock it off. 

Half the time they weren’t talking, both their tempers running high and yet, Bruce knew that he loved her like a daughter and that she respected him as well.

But his eyes wouldn’t stay with her, they were forced to wander, unable to process just how mighty his empire was, how strong this idea of a 9-year old Bruce Wayne, had grown.

How all of this had only been able to happen because a young Bruce in his twenties had bought a dying mermaid child.

Because he had decided to help a lost squid mer he found on some rocks.

Because he had said Yes when Dick asked him to help an abandoned siren.

Because his son returned to him.

Because he had tried again and again to build a connection with his silent observer.

Because his son had appeared in a moment of triumph.

Because his daughter wanted to save her brother, finding another ally, another child along the way. 

His strongest allies were his children and he would make sure this battle would not be fought for naught. He would make sure they would all return to see another day, to excel in something besides the war Bruce had created.

He looked at Damian then, his gaze returning to what was right in front of him. The boy was staring across the sea as well, a crease between his eyebrows, the light of the morning sun being reflected by the shifting glass that laid hidden underneath the glamour of humanity.

It was hard not to feel a twinge of doubt, of nostalgia when Bruce looked at his son:

“Are you sure? There is no shame in not doing it. We should be able to win even without-“

“I will do it. I have to do it. This” – there was hesitation in Damian’s voice, a hue of childish fear – “this is what I was born to do. And your fleet has no chance, without my gift.”

Bruce wanted to hug this child, wanted to tell him that he didn’t have to prove himself, that Damian was allowed to just exist without being useful, but the truth was, they needed Damian’s blessing. They needed his help. 

They were going to fight the Sea Witches – at least those who fought under Ra’s –and their battalion of mers who had sworn their loyalties to ancient beings made out of shipwrecks and magic. And Bruce no longer had a blessing to protect his fleet and himself with, the deal breaking the moment he had lured Talia unto the deserted island, after Stephanie’s instructions.

It had been harsh to watch Damian and Talia disappear, Damian turning into a pile of glass, Talia drying out until only the barest hint of foam was left, a feeling of devastating freedom washing over Bruce as he saw them die. They hadn’t died, of course, but the bonds breaking had almost felt like death. 

It had left Damian free, Bruce unblessed, and Talia furious with a promise of revenge on her tongue and sand staining her foam.

And now here they were, months of preparations later, an army ready to battle for its existence. A fleet ready to defend its reign over the ocean.

Bruce saw Tim appear in front of the Dark Bat, saw other sirens position themselves as well, and started to speak, addressing his people for the first time in their entirety:

“Men! Women! Mer! Sirens! You have all followed my call! You have all accepted my words! My truth! And my mission! And now, you have accepted this fight. This battle. It won’t be the last. It won’t be the only one of its magnitude! But it will be the one to change it all!”

His voice echoed across the sea, sirens translating his words into mer, or imitating his voice for his human followers to understand. The people were listening, he knew it, and he knew that he sealed their fate when he spoke next: 

“And we will fight the unfightable! So, accept this blessing!”

Damian took a deep breath next to him, his form swaying for just a moment before he stepped forward, his arms raised towards the sea and said:

“To accept my blessing of future and luck, my body will act as a token. Return what you got, and luck shall be yours, lose what I gave, and death shall be safe.”

Bruce felt the moment the spell started to work, Damian slowly crumbling, one sea glass stone after the other falling from his body into the ocean, reappearing in the hulls of ships, in the hands of leaders, until only one stone was left on board of the _Dark Bat_.

It was a small one, black like the coat Bruce was wearing, and shaped like a heart. It was warm when Bruce knelt down to pick it up, and it fit perfectly in the shape of his hand. This was Damian’s heart, and Bruce would make sure that he returned it safely to his son, as soon as this was over.

The world felt saver when he stood up again, and yet his inner turmoil wouldn’t cease. It felt wrong to use his son’s abilities for something like this. But still, it had been the only thing to give them a chance, to make this a fight they could win.

Bruce would do everything in his power to ensure that Damian would be whole again when this was over. But until then he had to make sure that all his other kids survived until the end as well. He wouldn’t sacrifice one of them for the other, and he wouldn’t stand by and let one of them die. Not if there was anything he could do about it.

He returned his attention to the waiting crowd of mers and ships and addressed them once again:

“The deed is done! We have made a deal! And now: Make sure the Seven Seas know what time it is! Make sure you create what was never created before: A bond between humans and the sea, that makes it impossible for Ra’s to attack! That makes it impossible for him to win!”

A chorus of yelling, and whistling, and cries of excitement colored the ocean in sound, the support of his people so strong Bruce could feel it like physical thing, the stone in his hand growing warmer, as if it was supporting him as well. As if Damian was standing next to him, grinning proudly in the face of the power they had achieved.

Bruce didn’t leave his place on the hull of his ship for the entire day, watching as small groups of ships broke away from his fleet, ready to travel to the places Bruce needed them to be, all of them with a group of mer or sirens by their side, ready to work the problem from both sides.

He watched as Dick disappeared, the ship of Victor Stone following him closely, his boy having found yet another ally in his crusade.

He watched as Jason vanished into the depths of the ocean a trail of fluorescent light following him, the big loner mers feeling a connection with Jay. Staying with him.

He watched as Black Canary sailed away, her own fleet following closely, Selina and Helena on her trail, the sirens knowing things Bruce could only wonder about.

He watched as Tim chased the ship of Barry Allen away, all of them knowing where their destination would be, what goal they were trying to achieve.

He watched as yellow clouds split up, each of them trailing another set of boats, Stephanie staying with the _Dark Bat_ , her mischievous smile visible from where Bruce stood.

He watched as Cass and the lionfish mer found Barbara’s hidden fleet and joined her when they took on the ocean once more.

He stood and watched, ready for what was to come. Ready for the change they would bring.

Their plan was risky, dangerous. Something that could end disastrous. Blood would be spilled, there was nothing Bruce could do about that. People would die. Mer would die. But in the end Bruce hoped it would be worth it.

In the end Bruce hoped that his goal of creating a world in which humans could travel safely, mers could live freely, and pirates only fought their own, would be worth it. That every slit throat, every lost life, every battle fought, would be worth it.

There was not all that much left of the child Bruce had once been, from the curious 9-year-old who had wanted to travel the world and save the sea. Bruce would never know if his parents would be proud of the man he had become or if they would despise him, until it was too late – until the last blood had spilt and his own body returned to the sea – but he hoped they would forgive him.

He hoped they would see what he had created, the lives he saved, the kids he loved, and they would understand that Bruce was not a cruel man – he just cared too much.

The sun was beginning to set, the last strands of its light coloring the deck of the _Dark Bat_ red, the ocean in front of him a kaleidoscope of colors, when Bruce heard a noise.

It took his eyes a long time to find the source for it, the incoming dark making it hard to see. A mer was drifting in front of his ship, the dark scales almost invisible against the ocean, only the bright yellow strips making sure that Bruce saw what he saw.

The mer was staring up at him, an electric energy traveling up and down his body, a smile showing off rows after rows of white teeth.

“Who are you?”

This could be an enemy agent, a mer sent by Ra’s, an assassin mermaid ready to fulfill its contract, and yet Bruce could already tell that that was probably not the case. The mer was too friendly for that, its eyes following Bruce with curiosity instead of hatred.

“Duke.”

“What?”

“I’m Duke. **We are Robin**. We want to help.”

And now that Bruce decided to look, he could see what Duke meant. Rows after rows of mers, most of them rather small, most of them with the same long and thin body Duke had, circled the _Dark Bat_. They had closed in on him without noticing, surprising him, impressing him.

“Why?”

“Because it is our home as well. And we deserve to fight for it.”

There was steel in Duke’s gaze, and the electricity Bruce had previously only felt, traveled down Duke’s spine, visible in sparks and strokes of light.

“Well, then, welcome on board of the _Dark Bat_ , I am the Beast of the Seven Seas, but you might call me Bruce. We have a war to win. I hope you are ready.”

Duke only grinned.


	9. Bruce

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> \+ The One Time Bruce Met Fate
> 
> Many battles have been fought and it is finally time for the last confrontation between Ra's al Ghul and the Beast of the Seven Seas.  
> But for that forgotten memories and the past have to stop haunting Bruce.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!   
> We are finally at the last chapter of this rather long journey. It is almost twice as long as the chapters before! Well, we do have a lot to work though!  
> Thank you to every single one of you, who read, enjoyed, kudoed, commented or bookmarked and subscribed! I love all of you and thank you so much for your support!   
> I hope you enjoy this <3
> 
> Warnings: Drowning (non permanent), Character Death (Martha & Thomas Wayne), Some Non Graphic War Imagery, A Happy Ending

The hull of the _Dark Bat_ pierced the inky black water of the Northern Sea.

This was it.

The final battle.

Over the last few months, over countless battles fought, Bruce had managed to concentrate the reign of Ra’s al Ghul on this part of the sea, infested with monsters like the dragon Bane or the siren Scarecrow. They had pushed the Sea Witch further and further, even when Star Harbor fell, even when the _Titan_ got destroyed taking her captain down with her.

And now here they were. Ra’s al Ghul’s last stance. Bruce’s last chance.

His children were currently fighting their own enemies in every corner of the ocean, Ra’s not willing to go silently or gracefully.

Last Bruce had heard Dick had been engaged in a battle with destroyed hunting vessels come back to life, and Cass had fought with the lionfish mers that had chosen the safety of the Sea Witches over the freedom of the reign of the Beast.

Bruce had no idea where Jason was. Or Tim.

They had lost so much over the last few months, Damian’s heart heavy in the pocket of Bruce’s coat, but Ra’s had lost so much more.

Where the Sea Witch had once been able to raise the tides with a wave of his hand, or to create storms that brought pain for generations to come with a smile on his face, he had lost the spirits of the water, the ghost controlling the sea to Bruce. Or to the people he fought with. His children. His partners. His friends.

Ra’s al Ghul as he was now, was a towering creature made out of the oldest things the ocean could find.

He was made out of the wooden planks of ships that had traveled the sea thousands of years ago, metal and bone and glass and stone building him up, strengthening him, creating something that was still powerful even now with most of his magic lost.

Bruce knew not to get cocky, he knew not to feel safe just because this was the last battle, and yet he couldn’t quell the surge of hope – of pride – that filled his veins, at the thought of Duke and his pod, of Stephanie and her sisters, by his side.

The eel mer had appeared only a few short months ago, and Bruce had not yet gotten a chance to find out just _who_ Duke was supposed to be – but he could already tell that the mer had filled a hole in Bruce’s soul that he hadn’t known was there.

The fleet that would fight this last battle was small. They had been thinned out, ship after ship, siren after siren, mer after mer, falling victim to strategy and enemy attack. Not all of them had died, some just pushed into corners of the ocean they could no longer escape, but Bruce knew that every death would carry with him. Every lost soul would become a name in his books, and he would carry them with him, remembering them for the sacrifices they made. For the loyalty they brought and the strength they had shown.

But for that to happen, he would have to survive. He would have to wage this war and see it to its end.

So, he could see his kids again. So, he could finally rest. So, the Seven Seas would be free of the cruel hand of Ra’s al Ghul.

It was night when Bruce raised his hand and gave the order to start firing.

It was hard to kill a Sea Witch and maybe it was even harder to destroy their grasp on magic, but Bruce had found a way to do it: A mix of electricity and magic, of destruction and well-aimed attacks at the bodies of Witches lured towards the surface of the sea.

You weakened a Witch by taking away their influence, and when they came to look what had disturbed their peace, who had dared to touch what the Sea declared theirs, you struck.

It was a dangerous method. One that Bruce knew had cost many lives in the past year, but it was the only one that worked.

It was the only chance they had in taking Ra’s al Ghul down.

Cannons hit the water left and right, the ships behind him shooting in formation as well. It was dark, the only light visible coming from the ethereal glow of Stephanie protecting the _Dark Bat_ from attacks from below, and the fire that illuminated the night every time a cannon was fired, every time a bomb was thrown.

It didn’t take long for Ra’s to react.

Bane was the first monster Bruce noticed, the hulking muscles of the dragon even more intimidating in the low light, and Bruce could hear the yell of pain as Bane ripped a mer Bruce didn’t know from the sea and broke them.

This was war.

Bruce was more than ready to fight it.

“Attack!”

Others joined the frenzy, Bruce feeling the effects of Scarecrows frightening song, feeling the water work against them as Ra’s concentrated all his might on the _Dark Bat_. But they fought, Bruce at the hull, his sword ready, his stance sure.

He had been born for this. No, he had been made for this. His children by his side, Damian’s heart close to his own.

In the corner of his eye Bruce could see Duke attack a snake-like mer, shocking the enemy until nothing much was left, and when he turned around Harper was engaged in a duel with the undead remains of soldiers and pirates fallen, puppets reanimated by Ra’s to fight his battles for him.

Everything was moving. They were changing the world. Even if they lost, even if they died, they would have harmed Ra’s. They would have made a difference.

Bruce had only turned around for a second, his eyes searching for Hall brothers in the crow’s nest, when he got hit. It felt like a sledgehammer to his chest, and Bruce lost his footing, unable to process what had just happened.

_He had been hit._

And a glance down told him that the giant piece of wood pushing him of the ship, stealing his breath, belonged to no other than Ra’s himself. Not that there was much that Bruce could do with said revelation, the raging waters of the sea coming closer, his chest burning with the pain of broken ribs.

The ocean was cold when his back broke through the surface, pushing whatever air was left out of Bruce’s lungs. The water was fighting him, Bruce desperate to resurface and yet unable to even move his arms.

All he could do was watch the fire above him, watch the destruction as he sank deeper and deeper. Past the keel of the Dark Bat, past Steph engaged in her own battle, past the debris of fallen ships and men.

The heart of his son was heavy in the pocket of his coat, hope vanishing with every bubble of air that escaped him, only to return to the surface without him.

He

sank

deeper.

Just as he had once before.

* * *

Bruce watched as waves crashed against the hull of the _Monarch_ from the tiny window in his tiny cabin. The storm had been raging for what felt like hours at this point, the constant up and down making it impossible to sleep.

Thunder rolled across the sky and a flash of lightning illuminated the dark clouds and the even darker sea. It was a bit scary, Bruce all alone in his cabin, but he wanted to wait a bit longer before he went and got his parents. They needed the sleep, especially after Mr. Elliot had that fit earlier, and his dad had had to help. And he was eight years old already, basically a man, and he didn’t need his parents anymore to tell him everything would be alright.

Sometimes Bruce wondered what his life would look like if he weren’t the son of Thomas and Martha Wayne, if he hadn’t grown up in the hulls of ships crossing oceans. He would never know, of course, his life being the only one he could live, but sometimes when he looked at the kids playing in the harbors they frequented, he realized, how different he was than those kids.

He never went to school, instead his parents taught him, or his father’s steward Alfred Pennyworth sat him down and forced Bruce to remember the Latin names for all the dumb bones a person had. He had grown up on a series of ships, whatever vessel had hired his father as a ship’s doctor or his mother as a trading consultant. And he loved it, he really did, just sometimes he couldn’t help himself and notice that he was a bit different than most. A bit odd, so to say.

The only real friend his age was Mr. Elliot’s son, Thomas, but he had other things to worry about right now, with his dad so sick.

Another flash of lightning danced across the sky, and this time Bruce saw something else besides waves: He saw a ship closing in.

Bruce was an intelligent boy, he knew what ships like that meant, even if he had been unable to see the flag the vessel was flying. No captain would voluntarily close in on another ship during a storm like this. No, a ship coming closer in times like these meant only one thing: Pirates.

This wasn’t good at all. It was horrible, really. They were a normal trading ship, not made for battles or fights or pirates. Bruce had to tell someone. He had to tell his parents!

His feet were silent on the wooden floor when Bruce made his way from his room to his parent’s cabin. Luckily, the way wasn’t too long. He wasn’t sure he would have been able to cross a bigger distance, his whole body thrumming with panic and anxiety. His hands shook when he reached their door, his knocking sounded timid and unsure, and yet at least his mother had heard him:

“Yes? Bruce, darling, is that you?”

He pushed the door open, his eyes immediately searching for his mother’s face. And he found it, her head turned in his direction, her gaze routinely searching his body for injury. She was sitting up in bed, his dad still sleeping soundly by her side, a soft snore audible in the silence every couple of seconds. Her hair was standing up in every direction, her favorite necklace still visible even under her fluffy, white nightgown:

“What is the matter, darling? You look very distraught”

Bruce wasn’t sure if he could answer, instead crossing the room, his mom’s open arms waiting for him when he reached her bedside. Pressed against the warm softness of her body, breathing in the familiar smell of her favorite perfume mixed with something that was inherently her, Bruce felt as if he was able to breathe again, at least some of the pressure easing off his heart. His voice was still soft and scared, but at least he was able to talk now. At least he was saying what he had to say:

“I saw a ship, a pirate one, closing in. They… I think… I think there are pirates coming…”

His mother reacted immediately, pressing him closer before using her free hand to shake his dad awake:

“Thomas! Thomas, wake up! Bruce saw a pirate ship! Wake up!”

His dad’s eyes flew open, the man sitting up instantly, something wild in his gaze. But one look at Bruce and his wife and his dad calmed down, looking at them, waiting for an explanation. It was his mom who gave one:

“Bruce saw a ship coming closer. It could be… what if it’s pirates, Thomas?”

Whatever lingering sleepiness might have weighted his dad down was now gone, Thomas turning around and leaving the bed. It was still his mom who said what Bruce was thinking:

“What are you doing?”

“We need to tell the captain! We can’t be caught unaware!”

Bruce watched as his mom and his dad stared at each other, steel in both of their gazes, before his father nodded and his mom turned around and addressed Bruce:

“I will be going with him, Bruce-honey. Stay here and wait for us, yes?”

No. They couldn’t leave him here. What if the pirates attacked while his parents were talking to the captain? What if Bruce wasn’t there to protect his mom and dad?

“I am going with you! You can’t let me stay here!”

Once again something complicated passed through his father’s gaze, but they were running out of time, every minute they spent talking was a minute the pirates could use to come closer and closer. Bruce could see the moment his parents decided to let him come, the small shift in their postures that told him he would be allowed to follow them on deck.

His mom was the one who nodded first though, taking his hand and pulling him out of bed. He followed her willingly, and soon enough the three of them were running through the dark and swaying hallways of the _Monarch_.

The storm had gotten even worse, the sound of goods and unsecured possessions crashing into walls acting as a soundtrack for their journey on deck. Very faintly the echo of crew members yelling reached Bruce’s ears, all of them busy making sure that the ship wouldn’t sink into the depths of the ocean.

It was dark and wet when they finally reached the deck, a wave of rain hitting Bruce’s face the moment he stepped out of the door. His mother’s grip on his arm was solid, anchoring him to the present and to her side. His dad was only a few steps in front of them, making his way towards the poop deck, where the captain Leslie Thompkins fought against the angry sway of the ship and the waves crashing against its hull.

Bruce was soaked in a matter of seconds and by the look of it so were his parents.

The wooden planks were slippery from the rain and the spray of saltwater, only the constant presence of his mom making sure that Bruce didn’t fall. It was dangerous and they moved slowly, just to stay safe. When they reached captain Thompkins, his dad was already trying to convey their information over the roar of the storm. He was yelling, the wind ripping the words from his mouth, Bruce unable to understand what his father was saying.

Hopefully the captain understood what was happening. Hopefully they weren’t too late.

And judging by the unhappy and grim look on her face, captain Thompkins had heard what his dad had had to say. Her resolve was steely when she yelled, louder than Bruce had ever heard someone yell:

“Attention! Battle ready in five! Pirates! Port!”

A flash of lightening illuminated the world just then, and for a moment Bruce could see the enemy ship again, climbing into his field of vision from the trough it had been hidden in. The pirates were much, much closer than Bruce had thought.

Than any of them had thought.

It felt as if he was watching someone else’s life, when he screamed, pointing at the ship that had so suddenly appeared in the night.

It felt surreal, when he watched his mom turn around, the light of the sole lantern catching in her pearl necklace, something she never took off, a gift from his father.

It couldn’t be real, when his mom’s eyes widened in shock, and a soft ‘ah’ escaped her lips, red spilling down her nightgown, almost invisible in the black and white landscape of the raging storm.

Bruce only knew that he was screaming, when a wide shot from the approaching ship tore through his mother. He knew he was screaming when she sank down on her knees, her eyes still open, still looking at him.

He knew he was screaming when his father pushed him down, only to be struck by a bullet as well, the towering form of Thomas Wayne falling so easily. So fast.

One moment everything had been fine, and now Bruce was kneeling next to his mom and dad, both of them dead, both of them wet from the rain and the sea. Tears were streaming down his face, but Bruce couldn’t care less, the world no longer existing, only the bodies in front of him being real.

There was no sound reaching him, no chaos capable of penetrating the pain and panic surging through him – there was only the horror of his mom’s pearl necklace and the stillness of his dad’s eyes.

He didn’t even really notice when a giant wave hit the hull of the _Monarch_ , sending his body skidding away from his parents. For a moment he wanted to care, wanted to reach out and then – and then his body hit the cold water of the ocean, a wave dragging him down almost immediately.

The freezing water woke him up, awakened some part of him that wanted to live, that wanted to fight. But he was small, his limbs growing heavier by the second, his lungs burning with a need to breathe.

He fought, he really, really did, but at the end of the day he was nine. At the end of the day his parents had just died.

It felt a bit like giving up, when his strokes towards the surface became more and more sluggish, when his kicks turned into soft twitches of muscles in need of oxygen instead.

He was surrounded by darkness, the storm so much farther away a few meters under the surface of the ocean, silence filling his ears, the rapid beat of his heart the only thing audible.

Maybe it would be okay to give up.

Maybe Bruce didn’t have to fight any longer.

Maybe it was okay.

He watched as the bubbles that escaped his mouth dispersed, watched as the darkness claiming his vision became more than just the darkness of the sea.

He breathed in.

He wanted to live.

He wanted to fight.

…

A warm glow engulfed him and after a while Bruce noticed that he could breathe again, that he could see and feel and think again. He was still surrounded by water, he was still in the middle of the sea, but where darkness had reigned earlier, a soft light illuminated the dark blue of the ocean now.

Someone was holding him and for a moment Bruce thought it was his mom, hugging him before she kissed him goodnight and closed his cabin door. But, no, _his mom was dead_.

“Hello, little one.”

The voice was light, warm, and it came from everywhere, filling every pore of Bruce’s body with hope. It was a pretty voice, a nice one, and Bruce tried to twist around to see a face that matched with it. But before he could do that, the person holding him changed, suddenly appearing in front of him, rather than carrying him from behind.

“I am Diana, Princess of the Sea, and you are Bruce, aren’t you?”

Bruce could only nod, his brain not capable of understanding just what he saw. Diana was glowing, something ethereal radiating from her divine form. She looked a bit like his mom, Bruce thought, just as pretty and powerful.

His heart ached with the knowledge of what was gone.

It ached with the pain of being left behind.

“You will achieve great many things in your life, Bruce, and you will save many of my children, giving them a home, a purpose, a family.”

How could she say that? How could Bruce do any of that if his own family had just died? If his own future had just vanished?

If he himself was still lost at sea?

There was something so sad in him, not even the magical glow could warm it up for long. There was a coldness taking hold of his heart, Bruce felt incapable of ever chasing away.

“You can’t die now, Bruce, and you can’t give up. There are many great things in your future – and you aren’t meant to die here.”

“But my parents were?”

If one could cry in the ocean, Bruce would do it, tears burning behind his eyes. It had been dumb of him to yell at a powerful being like the one in front of him, Bruce knew that, even if he couldn’t understand just what Diana was.

“Fate is a fickle thing, my dear. Some people are meant to die, and some are meant to survive, and you are supposed to survive, so you can save those who need to be saved”

Bruce didn’t understand, maybe he wasn’t supposed to understand, but her words weren’t enough to quell the anger at his parents’ death that had already started to grow.

“Fair enough, little one. Be angry, it might help you yet. But until then: sleep.”

The unnatural warmth in his chest started to expand and Bruce could feel his eyes close, the pressure of the water returning. It was weird to notice how far away everything had been only moments earlier, but while the warmth inside of him persisting, the cold of the sea returned, as did the need to breathe.

It no longer felt real when he heard a voice reverberate in his head, telling him to look after himself and that he had more people in his corner than he might believe.

It no longer felt real, the only sensations Bruce could really feel, the water currents toying with his body. Pushing him and forcing him forward.

…

There were hands pulling on his clothes, frigid air catching in his wet clothes, voices yelling and screaming and crying.

“We found him!”

“The boy is alive! He is alive! A wonder!”

“Someone get Mr. Pennyworth!”

And then someone else was touching him, someone Bruce knew, the smell hitting his nose almost as familiar as his mother’s perfume or his father’s cologne. The dusty smell of tweed being something pretty close to home. Alfred.

“Bruce? Bruce, can you look at me?”

It felt like a herculean task to peel open his eyes, to focus on the man in front of him, but Bruce did it, tears already streaming down his face, even before he saw the relief and the tear tracks on Alfred’s. His parents were dead. And now Alfred was the only one he had left.

“Oh, my boy. My poor, poor boy. Come here!”

And then he was caught in a hug, one so tight Bruce wasn’t sure if he was being held by Alfred, or if Bruce was making sure that Alfred stayed upright. He let his tears flow, let the grief catch up with him and listened to the tear-soaked ramblings of the man holding him:

“We thought you were dead. You went overboard in the middle of a storm. In the middle of an attack. God, I thought I’d lost you all. But here you are. A wonder, indeed. My boy. You are alright. My boy-“

Bruce didn’t know if it was a wonder, all he could remember the feeling of slowly drowning and a voice telling him it would be alright. Maybe his mom and his dad had protected him, had made sure that nothing bad would happen to him, maybe he wasn’t alone after all.

All he knew for sure was, that the people who had killed his parents had to pay.

That he would make sure the Seven Seas were safe, even if it was the last thing he would be doing.

That Bruce Wayne would become a person to be feared. A person to be respected.

* * *

There was air in his lungs and the soft sound of seagulls in his ears. The sun was shining when he opened his eyes, and it took his brain too long to realize that he was being carried by Jay, safe in the giant arm of his son, a few feet above the water.

“He is awake! He woke up!”

It was Tim who had spoken, Bruce unable to spot the Siren. Instantly relief flooded his veins. Tim was okay. Jay was alright. His sons were here. It was a struggle to sit up somewhat straighter, but he managed it and his eyes looked down from his perch on top of his son’s arm.

They were somewhere in the Northern Sea, Bruce recognized the dark color of the water and the smell of Northern winds, but the battlefield Bruce last remembered was no where to be seen. Instead his children were crowding around Jay.

He could see Dick’s tailfin break the surface of the water, his oldest circling the squid mer with nervous energy visible in every movement.

He saw Tim and the relieved smile on his face, the boy still young in appearance if in nothing else.

It would be impossible for him not to see Cass and Steph both of them catching the sun with their unique coloring, both of them following him with their eyes.

He saw Duke, the eel mer anxiously hiding behind one of Jay’s tentacles and he could feel Jay around him, the cold clamminess of the mer’s skin reassuring him of his son’s presence.

But he could not see Damian. And for a moment his heart stopped.

And then his hand found the heart shaped stone in this coat pocket, and he could feel it thrumming and heating up. The glass almost fell out of Bruce’s hand when he pulled it free, the energy so strong, so alive.

It was a wonder to watch Damian become Damian once more. One piece of glass after the other found the heart in Bruce’s hand, building up something great, connected by the water of the sea. It didn’t take long, and suddenly Bruce wasn’t alone of Jay’s arm anymore, a small body pressing close to his chest.

The last son returned home as well.

“Did we win?”

Damian’s voice was tiny, a small and exhausted thing, and Bruce hugged him tighter, his gaze finding his children beneath him, all of them nodding and grinning and showing their love.

“Yeah, we won”

There would be another fight soon, another enemy to beat, but right now they had won. Right now, all of them were alive, and another day had begun.

The sun was shining, and Damian was whole. The sun was shining, and Bruce had survived

The sun was shining… and there was hope. There was tomorrow.


End file.
